


The accident, or How John and Sherlock started a family

by Kenizz



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Family, Humor, Kids, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenizz/pseuds/Kenizz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending a night with an unexpected ending together John and Sherlock must face the consequences of their actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. -9 Months: The Creation

John slowly pushed Sherlock backwards by the shoulders, his lips never leaving his partner's. His fingers were fumbling blindly with the buttons on the purple shirt and soon Sherlocks hand left his already naked chest to assist him.

The back of Sherlock's knees hit the edge of the bed and both of them fell down, John landing on top of Sherlock. John looked into his lover's ever changing eyes and they stared up into his. They stayed like this for what felt like hours but was barely seconds before John flashed Sherlock a vicious smile and rubbed his hips against his partner's. Sherlock let out a gasp, surprised by the sudden friction. John continued to grind his hips against Sherlock's while attacking his neck, nibbling and kissing until the skin turned red.

Soon the layers between them were too thick and John quickly removed his jeans before slowly kissing down Sherlock's chest, belly, abdomen and finally reaching the lining of his trousers. With practised movements he opened the zipper and eased them down Sherlock's hips, his pants soon following.

It was often John who took control during sex, not because Sherlock had been a virgin before but because Sherlock had never been loved like this and being unaccustomed to strong feelings he was unsure of how to react and let John take command. Not that they'd never had heated 'Oh god fuck me now' sex -they had, it was glorious- but if John were to choose he prefered taking things slowly, really showing Sherlock how deep his love for him run.

"John!" Sherlock panted as John took him in his mouth slowly moving down the shaft while swirling his tongue it that way he knew made Sherlock's toes curl. He slowly started bobbing his head while Sherlock moaned beneath him, occasionally flicking his tongue over the tip of Sherlock's cock, tasting the salty precum and feeling Sherlock jerk under his fingers.

John hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard and speeding up his movements. Underneath him Sherlock trembled, quickly approaching his climax. When Sherlock began thrusting his hips into the glorious warmth of John's mouth John took hold of his hips and slowly withdrew his mouth.

With a final lick up Sherlock's prick he completely removed himself from his lover, earning a disappointed whine as he got out of bed and moved towards the drawer where they kept the lube and condoms.

When he bent down he couldn't resist wiggling his ass seductively, pleased to hear Sherlock huff behind him.

"John, get your ass over here and off with those infuriating pants."

John quickly got out of his 'infuriating' pants and threw himself on top of Sherlock, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over Sherlock's body, his tongue thrusting into his partner's mouth, showing him just how he would be fucked later. Sherlock spread his legs and his hands snaked down John's back until they found the curve of his buttocks. With a strong grip he pushed John's hips against his own, their cocks sliding wetly against each other. John let out a groan, letting go of Sherlock's lips for a split second while his partner gasped.

"Oh god, Now John. Now" Sherlock demanded, pushing his hips upwards to emphasise his point.

Placing kisses down Sherlock's jaw and neck John blindly grabbed for the lube, finding the bottle and opening it with a small 'click'. He pulled away, sliding his hands down Sherlock's sides and insides of his spread legs while doing so, and coated his index finger with lube.

He slowly moved his finger between Sherlock's cheeks, giving his entrance a few experimental rubs before slowly pushing his finger inside. Sherlock moaned as he was breached, his hands fisting the bedsheets.

John carefully pulled out again, recoated his finger and pushed in to the second knuckle, slicking Sherlock's inside with lube. When the tight ring of muscles had relaxed and Sherlock had gotten used to the slick slide of John's finger John covered his middle and ring finger with lube and pushed a second digit in next to the first.

John slowly fucked Sherlock with his fingers and it wasn't long before Sherlock began rocking himself in sync with John's thrusts. When a third finger is added Sherlock let out a loud gasp and stilled for a second before rocking back with more enthusiasm, practically fucking himself on the digits. With a mischievous grin John curled his fingers without warning, easily finding the prostate and Sherlock let out a loud moan, his face open and flushed with arousal.

John pulled his fingers out and let them trail up Sherlock's perineum, balls and prick. With his right hand John found the condom and rolled it on, savouring the friction on his so far neglected penis.

Lining himself up he bowed his head and claimed Sherlock's lips in a kiss. John carefully pushed the head inside, letting out a gasp as the warmth of Sherlock's body engulfed him. With small thrusts he moved forwards till he's buried to the hilt, Sherlock writhing and trembling beneath him.

They stay like this until Sherlock gave a minute nod of his head and John pulled out so only the head was held in by Sherlock. Setting up a pace he knew will drive Sherlock mad John began thrusting into the slick warmth that is Sherlock.

The room was quiet as John made love to Sherlock. The silence only broken by the gasps from John and the quiet moans from Sherlock. After a few minutes John decided that this wasn't enough and angled his hips, thrusting against Sherlock's prostate now. Suddenly Sherlock's moans increased in strength and he wrapped his legs around John, pulling him deeper.

John's thrusts grew harder and deeper with each passing moment and soon the whole bed is rocking in sync with the rocking of John's hips. Sherlock threw his head back as a particularly well aimed thrust sent sparks behind his eyes, his mouth falling open in ecstasy.

"Oh, Fuck. Sherlock" John moaned, rapidly climbing towards his climax.

"Ah, John... OH hnnnnng. Don't , don't stop." Sherlock's hands were now tightly clasping the headboard, keeping him from sliding across the covers and making the bed hit the wall with each one of John's thrusts.

"I'm close" John muttered, gritting his teeth to make this last longer.

"AH! John, now... Oh god" This was all John needed to reach his hand between their sweaty bodies and grab hold of Sherlock's cock. It only took a few jerks before Sherlock came undone under him, his ass clamping down hard around John's prick as he orgasmed. A howl sounding something like 'John' escaped his lips as his cock shot cum across their bellies.

John snapped his hips forwards three more times before his orgasm hit him like a train. With a gasp turning into a guttural sound of pure pleasure he buried himself deep within Sherlock as he rode the waves of ecstasy.

With a sigh John collapsed on Sherlock, lazily kissing his neck. Sherlock's quiet as they laid there, John knowing that he's savouring the few minutes of silence in his head before his brain started fussing with a million thoughts again.

"I love you." John whispered and Sherlock smiled that special smile only these word could lure out of him.

"I love you too"

After a few minutes it became uncomfortable to lay there, still inside Sherlock and his stomach sticky with sperm. He slowly pulled out and made to remove the condom when he noticed something.

"Oh?"

Sherlock looked up from his position on the bed, somewhere in his brain knowing that he should listen to John.

"What?" Sherlock asked sluggishly and John looked up.

"The condom broke"


	2. -9 Months: Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello again. This is the second chapter (obviously) sooo enjoy.**   
>  **More info about how this Mpreg 'verse works in the end notes.**

"The condom broke"

"What?" Sherlock asked, eyes widening in horror.

"The condom broke" John repeated, walking towards the bathroom.

"The condom _broke_!"

"Yes, the condom broke." John frowned, for a genius Sherlock sure was slow at times.

"When?" Sherlock stared at the ceiling, his pulse loud in his ears.

John heaved a sigh before answering, "I don't know Sherlock." Really, did they have to do this now? All he wanted was to throw away the blasted condom, cuddle up next to Sherlock and sleep.

"How can you not know?" Sherlock exclaimed, snapping up into sitting position. "You were the one wearing it. You must know!"

"No I bloody well don't. It's not like you can feel it snap or anything." John pinched the bridge of his nose, counting slowly to ten. He only reached seven before Sherlock was at it again.

"How much's still in it?"

"What?"

"Sperm John! In the condom. How much?"

John examined the condom. It was still sperm in it, but not much. Most of it were probably still in Sherlock or on the sheets. "Some, not much" He answered with a shrug. Behind him he heard Sherlock utter something close to 'Oh dear god' and when he turned around Sherlock was sitting with his head between his knees, trying to control his breathing.

John's mind immediately jumped to a girlfriend he had at uni. She had been extremely freak out by body fluids and had refused to do anything without at least one condom between her and John's prick. John hoped this really wasn't the case, but then again it couldn't. Sherlock and him had done a lot of things involving exchange of body fluids and Sherlock had never once protested.

Maybe he's just freaked out by having them inside him, John thought as he sat down next to Sherlock, trying to calm the man. His hand stopped stroking halfway down Sherlock's back, a thought making him freeze. But no, it couldn't be, or could it. But Sherlock would have told him if that was the case, wouldn't he?

"Umm, Sherlock." John starts reluctantly, really hoping that his superstitions won't be confirmed. "You're not fertile, are you?"

Sherlock was still for a few seconds before slowly nodding. There was a pause long enough to go from awkward to suffocating.

"Right." John said and felt like a complete idiot after, there was nothing 'right' about this situation. His eyes drifted to the _fucking_ _condom_ on the bedside table next to him. "Right" he said again and then added a third "right" for good measure.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked eventually and Sherlock raised his head in confusion.

"Why would I tell you?"

John gave Sherlock a shocked look. "Because, if something like this happened then I wouldn't have to worry about you freaking out."

"Well this wasn't supposed to happen" Sherlock snarled.

"And is that my fault. No! And for the record, we don't even know if you're pregnant."

"Of course I'm pregnant you idiot. As a doctor I thought you knew how these things worked!"

"Okay, you shut up. We will deal with this tomorrow when we both have slept on it."

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest but John quiets him with a stern look. Sherlock slid back down under the covers and turned his back against John, sulking. With a sigh John maneuvered himself to lie next to Sherlock, his front to Sherlock back but not touching. After a few minutes Sherlock gives in and scooted backwards, cuddling into John and soon they were both asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So a little explaining about my AU is in order.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Basically it's like the normal Sherlock universe, except that there are some males who can get pregnant. It's called being fertileand it's rather rare, about 1 in 10 000 males are fertile but because far from all of them are homosexual or bisexual actual male pregnancies are even rarer.**
> 
>  
> 
> **If you are fertile as a male you are _very_ fertile. This is because these men are a kind of subspecies in humans and as all species they want spread their genes in as many ways as possible and being able to get pregnant all the time is one of those ways. The pregnancies are the same as a woman's, except for the fact that you access the womb from the anus and not the vigana. **
> 
>  
> 
> **The society connects being fertile with being gay and because of the fact that many still (sadly) frown upon gays many keep the fact that they're fertile hidden.**
> 
>  
> 
> **So that was it about how my Mpreg works, if you have questions just fire away and I will answer to the best of my abilities :)**
> 
>  
> 
> **Thanks for reading**  
>  **comments are highly appreciated ;)**  
>  **Love**  
>  **/Phin**


	3. -8 Months and 2 Weeks: Parents?

To say that it had been tense between John and Sherlock after that Wednesday night was understatement. They had decided that when two weeks had passed and you were able to take the test they would and then the discussion on what to do would be held. During those two weeks Sherlock had been more and more indrawn and the physical contact between them had been on a minimum. It was almost as if Sherlock was afraid that if he weren't already pregnant then he would be if John so much as touched him.

Sherlock sat in his armchair, knees drawn up to his chest. He was eyeing a box on the coffee table suspiciously. The box in question contained one pregnancy test which Sherlock had bought this morning without being nagged by John actually, thank you very much. They had decided that today would be the day of doom -atleast it was in Sherlock's eyes- and that the test would be done today. It had been almost two and a half weeks since that sodding condom broke and Sherlock was feeling more and more on the edge by each passing day. He simply couldn't be pregnant.

It was five in the afternoon and John should be home any minute. Not being able to sit still longer Sherlock unfolded himself from the armchair and grabbed the test. In his desperation to get it over with he had just grabbed a random test in the store, not sparing a second glance at the box when he had confirmed it contained a pregnancy test. He sooooo regretted that now.

It was one of those horrible tests that showed a little smiley face if the test was positive and the company that makes them had therefore thought it would be print a smiley face on the box. Said smiley face was therefore now happily smiling up at Sherlock who tried to glare it to death. There was nothing happy about this situation. Nothing. At. All.

When he was just about to give up his glaring fight with the box and set fire to it instead he heard John's characteristic steps on the stairs.

"'Lo Sherlock. I went to the store and got-" John started as soon as he opened the door but Sherlock cut him short.

"Already got one." He waved the little box, the stick rattling inside.

"Oh, okay." John shrugged off his jacket and sat down on the couch next to Sherlock. After a moment of awkward silence he cleared his throat.

"So...how do you wanna do this?"

"If it's positive I'm going to get an abortion."

John stared at his for a moment before swallowing and slowly nodding.

"We could keep it, you know. I wouldn't mind." He suggested, hoping that Sherlock got the hint and he didn't have to say out loud that he kind of wanted the baby.

"No, positive and I get an abortion."

"Look, Sherlock. We don't have to decide this now, there is still plenty of time to terminate the pregnancy."

"No, I am getting an abortion." Sherlock glared at John. Why was he so persistent? Neither of them wanted a baby.

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"No."

"Sherlock! It's just as much my baby as it is yours. You can't single handedly make this decision." John was getting annoyed. He could put up with Sherlock being a brat any other day but damn it. He was not going to lie down and let Sherlock walk all over him this time.

"It's my body, therefore it's my decision." Sherlock answered matter of factly.

"Sherlock! It doesn't work th-"

"Yes it does! It's I who will have to carry the child, to feed it and give up on things because of it. I should be the one to decide!"

"IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT!"

"IT'S MY BODY! Its mine to do as I please with!" Sherlock grabbed the box and stormed off towards the bathroom.

"IT'S THE BABY'S BODY AS WELL YOU SELFISH BASTARD!" John shouted after him.

Sherlock locked the bathroom door behind him and sat down on the toilet, the box clutched in his hands. He sat there for several minutes, trying to muster the will to do the test. If he were to be completely honest he was scared shitless over what the test was going to show. He wasn't ready to be a father, really really wasn't. His life would be over if he were to carry out the pregnancy, no more cases, no more wild chases across rooftops.

With a sigh he decided that he should just get it over with and proceeded to rip the box open and accidentally fling the stick across the room.

"Damn"

After a bit of grabbing under the bathtub he managed to get hold of the stick and proceeded with the test.

When he was done he once again sat down on the toilet and waited, feeling like he was going to explode and implode at the same time.

After three minutes he decided to wait another two, the box said wait 3-5 minutes after all.

When those two minutes were up he waited another two, just to be sure. Realizing what he was doing he quickly grabbed the stick resting on the edge of the sink and flipped it over.

...

...

...

Oh

To see the little smiley face grin back up at him wasn't really that big of a surprise -87.3% of all fertile males got pregnant after unprotected sex- but if he were honest with himself he had actually thought he wasn't pregnant. Until a minute ago.

Right, abortion then.

But...No, he had decided on abortion so that was final. His heart ached at this thought. It couldn't be that bad, he loved John after all and John loved him. Why shouldn't they have a child.

NO! No he had already made the decision. Pregnant equals abortion.

But

He looked down and tentatively placed a hand on his abdomen. There, behind layers of skin and muscles, were a child growing. His child. He looked back up at the stick and this time he wasn't the least offended by the smiley face.

His and John's child.

He unlocked the door and were met by John sitting against the wall outside, presumably waiting for Sherlock. John looked up at Sherlock with searching eyes and Sherlock nodded. John let his head drop and let out a sigh, not sure if he was revealed or disappointed, but when he looked up again Sherlock was still nodding, a huge grin on his face.

Perplexed, John stared back at him. Why was he smiling so much. Maybe he thought John had asked him if it was negative of not. Well that would explain the smiling.

"Are you...?" John began.

"Pregnant, yeah." Sherlock answered, looking like he might burst out crying any second.

There was a long pause where both Sherlock and John seemed frozen in time.

"I'm keeping it." Sherlock whispered after what seemed like ages.

John couldn't believe his ears. With a breathless laughter he got to his feet and took a step forwards.

"Really?" He asked and Sherlock nodded in answer.

"We're having a baby."

John's face felt like it might split in two. His chest seemed to swell with uncontainable joy. Not being able to contain himself for a second longer he grabbed Sherlock by the lapels and pulled him down in a passionate kiss and together they stumbled towards the bedroom.

***

John woke up to a drooling Sherlock sleeping on his chest. It took a moment or two to for him to remember yesterday's events but when he did the whole world seemed at least three shades brighter. He slowly cradled his fingers through Sherlock's hair and watched the other man sleep. It was Saturday so there was no reason for him to get up any time soon.

After a couple of minutes Sherlock began to stir, shuffling closer to John in the process.

"Good Morning sleepy head." John murmured and Sherlock yawned.

"Morning" He answered and gave John a peck on the lips.

"We're pregnant." John remarked and caressed Sherlock's stomach. Sherlock hummed contentedly in response.

They cuddled for a while but suddenly Sherlock tensed next to John. John frowned and looked down at Sherlock who looked a bit queasy. Sherlock suddenly scrambled out of bed, taking the covers with him, and rushed out of the room.

"Sherlock!" John called after him, afraid that there might be something wrong with him. After a moment he heard retching coming from the bathroom and realized Sherlock was morning sick. Here we go, he thought as he heaved himself out of bed.


	4. -8 Months: Telling the yard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN: Short chapter this time, because I felt that telling the yard about the pregnancy was important but I don't have any plot for it**

It was seven o' clock a beautiful Monday morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything was perfect-

-and Sherlock was once again on the floor in front of the porcelain throne, sick to the stomach.

"You okay?" John asked from the doorpost, Sherlock had been morning sick every morning since the test and despite Sherlock's obvious suffering John hadn't got the heart to tell him it would take six weeks or so before it disappeared.

Sherlock glared at John in response and, not for the first time, John wondered if Sherlock had mastered the art of killing with looks.

"I'll go and make breakfast." John sheepishly walked away from the bathroom, sounds of Sherlock's retching following him all the way to the kitchen where he filled the kettle and started making breakfast.

Halfway through he heard the shower starting and five minutes later Sherlock emerged from the bathroom in one of his bathrobes (seriously, the man had like five of them).

There had been one positive outcome of the morning sickness though, Sherlock had begun eating more. Although, now that John thought about it he wasn't sure if Sherlock's new found interest for eating was because he was sick every morning or because he was pregnant.

To John's amazement Sherlock, the most self destructive person he knew, had begun taking changing his habits for the better, asking John about what he should eat, how much he should sleep and what was best for the baby. John had been happy to oblige and now Sherlock ate at least once a day and slept a minimum of five hours a night. Not perfect, but slowly getting there.

Sherlock sat down by the table, pulled up his phone and began fiddling with something. John placed a cup of tea and a plate with toast in front of him and Sherlock mumbled something John pretended to be a 'thank you sweetheart'.

John sat down opposite and began munching on his Jam toast. After a couple of minutes Sherlock's phone chimed and, without so much as a bite on his toast, Sherlock flew out of the chair and rushed into the bedroom.

"Lestrade, double homicide!" He called to John who still hadn't fully grasped what had happened. With a sigh he downed his tea, walked over to the door and pulled on his shoes.

When he was halfway through tying his second one Sherlock entered the living room, fully dressed and a huge grin on his lips. It was their first case in weeks and John couldn't be more grateful, actually he could if Lestrade had waited until Sherlock had eaten breakfast but you can't have everything in this world going your way.

Sherlock quickly pulled on his coat and stepped into his shoes but before he could rush out the door John grabbed his arm.

"Your toast."

Sherlock sighed and walked into the kitchen only to appear a second later, toast between his teeth and pulling on his gloves.

***

"I told you we should've taken the tube." John remarked when Sherlock heaved his third sigh in just as many minutes. They were currently stuck in the morning traffic jam and Sherlock was growing more and more impatient.

John had suggested that they take the tube, knowing how bad the traffic jams were in the mornings, but Sherlock had blank out refused and after a bit of arguing John had given in and jumped into the taxi with Sherlock.

Sherlock gave him a glare and they spent the next two traffic lights in silence.

"You know Sherlock." John said after a while and the detective turned his head to look at him. "We should probably tell the yard."

"Why?"

"They're going to find out eventually anyway so why not?" John answered with a shrug, hoping that Sherlock would give in just this once.

Sherlock looked at him for a long moment then his eyes flicked down towards his stomach. John can see the gears turning inside Sherlock's head and just before they're about to settle for no he adds, "For me."

"...Fine"

John gives Sherlock a small smile and a nod but in his head he's doing a little victory dance.

***

If John were to describe the way Sherlock had told Lestrade that he was pregnant John would use the word smooth, in the most sarcastic of ways. Because, ending a knife sharp monologue of deductions with the words 'and John and I are having a baby' couldn't really in John's mind be described as anything else but smooth.

And it was just in this ever so smooth situation he found himself right now.

"You and John are what?"

"Having a baby. Honestly Lestrade you heard me perfectly well the first time."

Lestrade stared at Sherlock with open mouth and if John were to look a little to his left he would have seen Anderson and Donovan making perfect replicas of the shocked expression Lestrade was wearing.

"Smooth" John commented, because truth be told, he could _not_ describe it in any other way.


	5. -7 Months 1 Week: Unexpected News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I have no Idea how these doctors appointment work so this I claim no accuracy. If you see anything completely wrong please do tell. Now enjoy the chapter :)**

The waiting room at st Barts was quiet, very quiet, far too quiet if you asked Sherlock. The seat next to him was empty, John being away on the toilet, and this didn't help Sherlock's anxiety. His hand was constantly switching from clenching his thigh and pressing against his stomach.

John had booked a doctor's appointment to see how things were going with their baby. Sherlock hadn't been that happy about it at first, if there was something wrong with the baby then surely he would feel it, but now, sitting here and waiting his mind conjured one horror scenario after another.

What if the baby was sick? What if it was going to die? What if it was already dead? No, it couldn't be, it mustn't be. Where was John when he needed him.

"Mr Holmes?" A woman in blue scrubs were calling out, searching the close to empty waiting room. Sherlock looked impatiently at the toilet door, willing John to come out. He didn't.

When the woman called out for the third time he stood up and raised his hand a bit.

"Here." He answered, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt but his voice lacked its normal strength.

"Follow me." The woman waved in the direction of a corridor in front of her and Sherlock followed somewhat hesitant. This wasn't like him to be this insecure. He was Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective damn it!

Finally the toilet door clicked open and John walked out, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

"JOHN HAMISH WATSON! Get over here now!" Sherlock bellowed loud enough for the whole ward to hear. John jumped, rushed over to Sherlock's side and grabbed the man's hand in a comforting manner.

The woman in blue scrubs, who had frozen at the voice of Sherlock's outburst, gave them a careful look before resuming walking.

After a minute of walking she showed them into an appointment room where a smiling man was waiting for them. He extended his hand and presented himself to the pair as Dr Thomas Markson and told Sherlock to strip his shirt and lay down on the gurney.

Sherlock did as he was told and soon he was the only thing stopping the appointment was the computer which, as any other piece of technology, was starting up as slowly as possible.

"So," Dr Markson said, turning to face John and Sherlock. "is this your first baby?"

"Yeah, we're quite excited actually." John said and squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"That's lovely. It's my first as well."

"WHAT?" Sherlock shrieked, looking at Dr Markson with horror in his eyes. "I am not having some kind of amateur checking on my baby!" He spat, gripping John's hand so hard John thought it might bruise.

"No, no need to worry. My first male pregnancy. I've lost count on how many female ones I have done." He said with a reassuring smile. patting Sherlock on his shin. Sherlock relaxed a bit but still didn't feel completely calm.

"Ah, seems we're finally ready to begin." Dr Markson said and began tapping away on the computer. "Okay, so have you been experiencing any kind of... morning sickness, mood swings, cravings, that kind of things?"

"Morning sickness, every morning." John started, looking down at Sherlock for confirmation. "Minor mood swings."

"I do NOT have mood swings!"

"Okay, no mood swings then." Dr Markson murmured and ticked in a box on the computer. "So how far along are you?"

"Ehhh, about two months." Once again it was John who answered even though the question was aimed for Sherlock.

"Okay. Well then it's time for ultrasound. This will be cold." He said and pulled out a tube of blue transparent liquid. Sherlock sucked in air through clenched teeth when the Doctor squirted some of the liquid on his stomach. He then grabbed the ultrasound and began smearing the the blue stuff over Sherlock's skin.

"Okay, any second now." Dr Markson moved the ultrasound in small movements and suddenly the low thump of a heart beat filled the room. "There we go."

John felt his heart do a double take when he heard the sound of his child's beating heart. He looked down at Sherlock and saw the man grinning like an idiot on christmas. He then felt his smile fall when he heard an irregularity in the heart beat. No, no it couldn't be. The irregularity continued to grow more distinct.

"Oh, wait." Dr Markson frowned at the screen

"John?" Sherlock grasped John's hand and looked up at his partner, seeking answers. Feeling utterly useless John shook his, unable to provide any answers.

"Aaah." The doctor said with a small frown on his face. "Well this will surely be a surprise for you."

Sherlock's hold on John's hand became bruising again.

"You're not having a baby." Dr Markson gave them a serious look and Sherlock felt like bursting into tears any second.

"You're having twins!" Dr Markson flashed them both a blinding smile.

Neither John nor Sherlock could do anything but stare at the man in front of them. Twins! They were having twins! Two babies, at the same time!

When the pair hadn't even blinked for a whole minute Dr Markson squirmed in his seat and pointed at the screen.

"So here is one." He moved his finger a bit to the left. "And here is the other. They're both very healthy looking and there should be no problems as far as I can see."

"We're having twins?" Sherlock eventually managed to squeeze out.

"Yeah, twins."

"Ooh god." Sherlock gasped and collapsed back on the garney. "Oh dear god."

John, who finally seemed to have caught up with reality, let out a shaky laugh. He could feel tears in his eyes but he couldn't be bothered to care. They were having twins. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy.

"We're having twins Sherlock." He leaned down and kissed Sherlock on the forehead. "Two beautiful baby twins."

"Do you have any questions?"

John looked at Sherlock who shook his head. "No. Not now at least." John answered with a shake of his head.

"Okay. Then we're done here." Dr Markson gave Sherlock a paper to wipe his stomach with and printed a picture of the ultrasound for them.

***

Later that evening John and Sherlock were looking at the printed ultrasound, chinese forgotten on the table and the telly blabbering in the background.

"They're going to be beautiful." John sighed , caressing the picture with a finger.

"Of course, they're my children." Sherlock sniffed but the usual mockery was lacking in his voice.

They continued to coo over the photo for a while when a thought suddenly hit John.

"How the fuck are we going to manage this? We will need another room, and two of everything. Oh god we will have two three year olds at the same time!"

"And two teenagers." Sherlock pointed out

"Oh god."

"Relax, it's going to be fine." Sherlock pulled John down into a kiss. "We're going to be the best parents in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I just want to thank you guys for all the comments and kudos. Highly appreciated 3**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Love**
> 
>  
> 
> **/Phin**


	6. -7 Months: Mood Swings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello again, special thanks this time to[sweetomegachild](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetomegachild/pseuds/sweetomegachild) for helping me out with the technicalities in the last chapter. Help much appreciated :)**
> 
> **So, regarding the changes in the last chapter, they're minimal and a re-read won't be necessary to understand this chapter. But if you're curious you know where to find the chapter ;D**
> 
> **  
> Should maybe add that this chapter starts of NSFW so, don't read it at work.  
> **
> 
> **  
> Now on with the chapter  
> **

John had barely closed the door behind him before Sherlock's lips were pressed to his in a passionate kiss, his lover's hips rubbing against against his own. Sherlock's hands were trying to push John's jacket off his shoulders John soon found himself helping. His tongue has somehow found its way into Sherlock's mouths and his partner is sucking eagerly at it.

When Sherlock's hands began fumbling with his shirt button John seized his hands and gently pushed them away.

"At least let me get inside the door." John laughed, amazed at how Sherlock had just jumped him. Usually he only reacted like this after a case when being high on adrenaline, not when he had been sitting at home for the whole day.

"Need you" Sherlock hissed before attacking John's neck with his lips, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. John let out a loud gasp and buried his fingers in Sherlock's hair, tugging none too gently at his curls.

Within minutes they were both naked and although John wasn't quite sure how that happened he didn't complain, after all, who was he to complain with a naked Sherlock Holmes on top of him. John's hand snaked their way over Sherlock's back, taking in the lean form and smooth skin, until they found the prize. Sherlock's quite magnificent ass. Cupping one cheek in each hand John pulled forwards and thrust his hips, their lengths sliding wetly against the other. Sherlock let out a groan from where he was sucking on John's collarbone and began rutting his hips.

It didn't take long before John tensed up, feeling his orgasm taking hold of him, and came with silent gasp. Sherlock soon followed with a strangled cry, biting hard on his lips to silence the sound.

"Wow, you gonna do this every time I come home in the future?" John asked when his brain had restarted, his voice a little crooked.

"Mmm" Sherlock hummed and John was quite sure Sherlock hadn't heard a word he'd said.

They laid there till the sticky mess between their bodies turned too uncomfortable. With a sigh John heaved himself of Sherlock and went to take a shower, giving the love of his life a peck on the nose before leaving.

***

The sound of something frying filled the flat and the salty scent of soy lingered in the kitchen. John had decided that today would be a good day for a wok with noodles and was now in the middle of frying it all together.

Suddenly a joyful tone met his ears and when he realised who the singer was, he nearly dropped the fryingpan. Slowly placing the pan on the stowe and equally slowly turning around he saw...

Sherlock! Singing and smiling like he didn't have a care in the world, his hand moving in slow circles over his stomach.

"Sherlock?" John asked carefully, wondering if the detective had somehow lost his mind while showering or getting dressed.

"Yes love?" Sherlock looked up and locked eyes with John, a huge grin on his face.

"You okay?" Sherlock never called him 'love'. It was always just John or 'My blogger' (which John found was really very sweet for coming from Sherlock).

"Yes, never been better." Sherlock bent down and kissed John on the lips before taking a seat at the table. "What's for dinner?"

John, who had been frozen on the same spot since he saw Sherlock singing, jumped at the question and quickly pulled himself together.

"Uhmm...Wok. We're having wok." He answered, lifting the pan off the stove and onto the table.

"Oooh I love wok!" Sherlock squealed, _squealed,_ and clasped his hands together, looking very much like some bad parody of a happy 1940's woman.

Somewhat afraid John sat down opposite Sherlock and observed as said man heaved spoon after spoon of food on his plate. He had begun eating a lot more since they got the news about the twins.

John took the spoon handed to him by Sherlock and began serving himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sherlock eagerly spooned a mouthful of wok into his mouth and then froze. Knocking the chair over with his hastily movement Sherlock stood up and rushed to the sink, dry retching.

"Sherlock?" John asked, his hand frozen mid air halfway from the frying pan to his plate. When the dry retching didn't stop John got out of his seat and gave started rubbing soothing circles on Sherlock's back, a routine he had become far too familiar with of lately.

"Water?" He asked and Sherlock nodded, holding out a hand for John to put the glass in.

"Sorry." He said when he had rinsed his mouth. "It was the soy, couldn't stand it."

John frowned then remembered a story he had been told when about his mother's pregnancy. Mum always ate, and still does, a lot of vegetables, one of her favourite was peas. But when she became pregnant she couldn't even be in the same room as a single pea, not to mention eating them. His Dad still shudder at the memory of her accidentally eating some peas, there had been breaking of china, and a lot of it.

John snaked his arm around Sherlock's back and pulled him close. "It's alright honey." To his surprise instead of shuffling closer and snuggling in, like Sherlock normally do when John gave him the opportunity, he instead began shaking, small sobs escaping his mouth.

"No it's not." He croaked out, tears falling down his cheeks. "You- you prepare this lovely meal to me and I-I-I-I just. I just throw up and ruin everything."

Okay John was definitely not prepared for this. What the _hell_ was going on? Had Sherlock someone injected Sherlock with something or why else had he turned into a big ball of hormon-

Oh... First horny, then happy and now sad. All within just over an hour.

John's brain finally made the connection between hormones, pregnancy and mood swings. He looked down at Sherlock, who was now clinging onto him as if his life depended on it, and wrapped his arms around the younger man's trembling form.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. I'm not angry with you." He consoled, once again rubbing soothing circles on Sherlock's back.

After a while Sherlock calmed down but instead of straightening up and insisting on that he never had shown any kind of emotion, like he normally would, he instead began kissing John enthusiastically, hands roaming over his chest. Horny again John thought as he once more pried Sherlock's hands of him and looked him deep in the eyes.

"No Sherlock." He said firmly. Sherlock stared at him for a second before turning around, stomping out of the kitchen and throwing himself on the couch to sulk. He didn't stay there long though because he soon needed to pee, which annoyed him to no ends.

"I'm still mad at you." Sherlock called out to John in the kitchen on his way to the toilet. "And I still want food." He added before slamming the door shut to the bathroom.

John only smiled fondly and shook his head. How the fuck was he going to handle this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So I know this isn't the most realistic portrait of mood swings but hey, this fic is under the category Humor so you will have to expect not everything being completely realistic.**
> 
> **Comments are lovely :)**
> 
>   **Love**
> 
> **/Phin**


	7. -6 Months 4 Weeks: Cravings and baby bumps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Sorry for the delay but I've been busy with real life and my other fics. 
> 
> Anyway I just wanted you guys to know that. Now on with the chapter

Over the week Sherlock's mood swings hadn't gotten any better, what so ever, at all. He constantly shifted between happy, euphoric, horny, sad, angry and hysteric and although John didn't mind the first three (especially not the horny periods) he did, however, mind the last three. So far Sherlock had burst into tears over things like him trying to help with the dishes and dropping a plate, John getting a paper cut, once again throwing up some of John's cocking and John's personal favourite, not being able to open his package of crisps.

The worst time however, had been a couple of days ago when John was late home from work. Sherlock had somehow got the idea that John had left him and as soon as John had walked in through the door he had let loose a wrath so great John was sure the whole of England had heard him.

When the message that no, John hadn't left him and wasn't going to had gone through he broke down into soul wrecking sobs, convinced that after his attack John would leave him. It had taken John another fifteen minutes of _no, I'm not leaving you Sherlock_ and _No, I'm not going to leave you Sherlock_ before the detective had calmed down.

Luckily Sherlock had begun to grow accustomed to the sudden changes in his behaviour and the weekend had been...rather controlled.

It was now sunday evening and John had just turned off the television and was on his way to the bedroom, yawning while doing so. He had already done the whole bathroom routine and was looking forwards to changing into pyjamas and slipping in under the covers. Sherlock was in the bathroom, doing whatever and John hoped he would be done soon.

Since Sherlock started sleeping more the late night cuddles had increased and John found that yes, he was indeed _very_ fond of those cuddles. He pulled his night t-shirt over his head and climbed under the covers. He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the book he was currently reading. It wasn't very good but that didn't matter, he only read because reading made him sleepy.

Finally Sherlock exited the bathroom, a big smile on his lips and his right hand absently fingering on his stomach. John looked up, saw Sherlock biting his lips and frowned, hoping that Sherlock wasn't going to burst into tears.

Sherlock took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak but the words were stopped by a laughter. John frowned even deeper and put down his book.

"Sherlock...Are you okay?"

"It shows."

"What?"

"My stomach. you can see the babies."

John stared at Sherlock for a second and then began tearing at the blanket, trying to get it off him and to get him out of bed. With a forceful tug he throws away the blasted blanket and walks up to Sherlock, his hands hovering uncertainly in front of the others stomach.

Sherlock pulls his t-shirt out of the way and places on of John's hands underneath his belly button and John's eyes widened. He was right. On Sherlock's before almost concave stomach was now a small bump, barely noticeable but still there.

John let out a breathy laugh and crunched down to get a better look.

"Oh god, this is really happening." His fingers ghosted over Sherlock skin and he slowly bent forwards and placed a kiss on the bump.

When he looked up Sherlock is crying, but tears of joy this time.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock woke the next morning with a gasp. He had dreamt something but he couldn't for the love of god remember what it was. John was laying by his side, snoring slightly, and Sherlock shuffled a bit closer, hoping not to wake his partner.

After a minute or two he looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him. It was ten past six in the morning and in about twenty minutes the alarm would go off and wake John.

Sherlock was usually busy throwing up this time of morning. Oh right, he was yet to feel nauseous. Joy filled his chest, much stronger than this situation called for but by now he was almost used to the mood swings and could control it a tiny bit better. Smiling broadly he placed a hand on the little baby bump and silently thanked its inhabitants for allowing him a break from his morning routine.

He snuggled further into the blankets and pillows, deciding he would stay here with John until the other man got up. His brain, however, did not agree. A need suddenly filled Sherlock, a need for...something. He didn't know what but he knew that if he didn't get it soon, someone was going to pay for it.

He untangled himself from the blankets and walked out the door and into the kitchen. With determined eyes he reached for the kitchen door but then the scent of bead hit his nose and he swirled around and grabbed the bread instead.

But no, it wasn't bread he craved, it was bread and...something more. He yanked the fridge door open and searched the shelves.

Ketchup? No.

Pickles?...No.

Any of John's jams? No.

Marmite?...Yes, yes Marmite. That's it.

Feeling satisfied he made to close the door but then it was still something missing. His eyes once again roamed the shelves and Oh!

 

* * *

 

John awoke with a groan, his hand smacking down randomly in a try to silence the alarm.

"I'm up, I'm up. Just calm down." He mumbled to the alarm and finally managed to hit the correct button. He yawned, dug the heels of his hand into his eyes and arched his back. Blinking a little to get used to the light he listened for any sign of where Sherlock might be. He didn't hear retching so he assumed Sherlock had already taken care of his morning routine and was now sulking on the couch.

John swung his legs over the edge of the bed and yawned again. He really wasn't a morning person. Deciding to get on with his morning he got dressed and walked into the kitchen, startled to find Sherlock sitting on a chair and munching on a sandwich.

"Morning John." He greeted and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Morning" John leaned down and gave Sherlock a peck on the lips but then grimaced as the taste of Sherlock's sandwich hit him. What the hell was the man eating? He looked down and saw, wait. What the actual fuck?

"Sherlock, are you eating a Marmite and tuna sandwich?" John stared wide eyed at said sandwich and felt a little sick when he saw Sherlock take another bite.

"Yes." Sherlock answered simply as if there was nothing strange about the situation what so ever.

"But that's disgusting!" John exclaimed.

"No, it is not. And besides, I needed it."

"Needed it?"

"Yes John, needed it. Didn't you hear me the first time."

"What do you mean needed it?"

Sherlock shrugged and put the last piece of the sandwich in his mouth, licking his fingers afterwards.

"I just, needed it."

"Like a craving?" John really hoped it wasn't a craving. He wasn't sure he'd be able to live with a Marmite and tuna craving Sherlock.

"Obviously."

"Oh god." John groaned and collapsed into a chair. If there was a god John was sure that said god had made it his personal goal to torture him. There was nothing, _nothing_ , John hated more than Marmite and the only reason he allowed it in his home was because sometimes, and now we were talking about a maximum of twice a month, Sherlock would like a Marmite sandwich. A sacrifice John was ready to make if it meant Sherlock would actually eat. But if Sherlock were to start eating it every day, well John could feel his guts turn at the thought.

"Do we have any cottage cheese?" Sherlock asked and began searching the fridge once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the cravings were kind off based on the ones I experience during PMS.  
> Will be more of this story tomorrow   
> Love  
> /Phin


	8. -6 Months: Lestrade's biggest mistake

**Hello again, sorry for the long wait but I've been really bussy :( but hey, longest chapter so far. Anyway there's a short school break here now so I'll probably post a few chapters over the next days :)**

**Ok, enough blabbering from me and on with the chapter.**

* * *

Much to John's joy Sherlock's cravings for Marmite were intense but short lived. Three jars of marmite had been consumed in just as many days (John had found Sherlock eating it with a spoon, a _spoon_ ) and then just as suddenly as it appeared it had disappeared.

In its place a craving for cottage cheese had grown, or as John referred to it, Sherlock's mission to empty all of England of cottage cheese. John had been asked to go shopping for cottage cheese in the middle of the night, during a rainstorm and in the shower.

After that John had taken it upon himself to make sure that wherever Sherlock went he would be able to eat cottage cheese if he so felt for it. This meant that there were always at least one package in the fridge at all times, that John always carried a spoon and enough money for a package and he had even gone to the lengths to call Lestrade and telll him that before calling in Sherlock there had to be cottage cheese available and if not, Lestrade could take care of a raging Sherlock.

Sherlock had of course had other cravings as well, among these orange peel and pickles but the cottage cheese were the only recurring one, which had begun to show on Sherlock.

Now that he had entered the second trimester the babies were really showing. John had been surprised at first about how early Sherlock was showing but after a somewhat worried phonecall to their doctor he had been told that Sherlock didn't show any more than any other woman carrying twins, it was just that men and women are shaped somewhat differently and that this created the illusion of Sherlock being bigger than he should in this stadium.

And it was the issue of Sherlock being somewhat bigger than he was used to that would disturb John's lovely sitting-in-the-quiet-for-once-flat-enjoying-a- _very_ -nice-cuppa moment.

"John!" Sherlock shouted from their room, his voice pitched a little higher than usual. John pretended he hadn't heard, sipping slowly on his tea.

"John!" Came the same cry again, this time a little panicked. This time John rose to his feet and made his way to the bedroom, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't throw some kind of tantrum. His mood swings had almost disappeared now that he's entered the second trimester but there were still some times when John could practically see Sherlock lose control over his feelings, something John went to great lengths to prevent.

When he entered the bedroom he found Sherlock laying flat on his back on their bed, his chest bare but his legs clad in a pair of black trousers. With Sherlock laying like this he could clearly see the baby bump and the bump in question was probably the reason to why his trousers were still unbuttoned, and why he sounded so panicked.

"They won't zip up John." He mumbled, clearly indicating the trousers. John had to really control himself to not roll his eyes. Of course they wouldn't zip up, Sherlock's clothes were usually like a second skin on him, there was no way on earth he would ever get into those clothes with twins growing inside him, and not to forget the two pounds he had gained from cottage cheese eating alone.

"Can I ask why you feel the need to dress this nicely all of sudden when you've been quite happy with practically living in your pyjama bottoms for the last month."

"Lestrade called." Sherlock answered with a sigh, waving vaguely with his hand at what John assumed was his phone.

"Case?"

Sherlock didn't grant John's question with an answer, instead he stayed where he was.

"Well you're not going in those." John nodded towards Sherlock's trousers and Sherlock's head shot up.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He squeaked, his face frozen in a mix of horror and rage. John could only stare back at him, not understanding why remarking something Sherlock already knew would make him react like this.

"Well..." John started carefully. "They're not fitting you right no-"

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Sherlock spat in response, his eyes on fire. John flinched at the sudden outburst but fortunately he was used to Sherlock taking things the wrong way when in a hormonal state.

"No Sherlock. You look beautiful and I am only happy that you can see our babies now. I love you and always will." John knew that this would work. Talking calmly and controlled to show Sherlock that this was the absolute truth was one of the few ways of calming him down. To emphasise his point he leaned down and kissed Sherlock's exposed belly gently.

"You can borrow a pair of my jeans, if you like. I have a pair that's way too long for me so they should probably fit." John looked up at Sherlock with a questioning look and the detective slowly nodded in response.

* * *

After having to search the house for something for Sherlock to wear on his upper body since his shirts no longer fit and the man refused to wear any more of John's clothes they had finally been able to go to the yard.

Sherlock was fiddling with the hem of the turtleneck they had finally found in the back of his wardrobe. The baby bump was clearly visible under the tight material and since the weather was too warm for his usual coat he only wore one of his usual suit jackets, which still fitted thank you very much.

"Where are we going?" John asked from Sherlock's right.

"The yard."

"But...I thought you said you had a case?" John frowned. Why would Sherlock go to the yard if he had a case? Unless someone was killed there. He hoped not, the papers would writhe with joy over something so ironic. "Has there been a murder there? At the Yard?"

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "No. Lestrade thought he would be able to handle last weeks homicide but it turned out they were just as wrong as always so they called me."

The cab had pulled over while Sherlock was talking and before John's brain had processed what Sherlock had said his partner was out the door and on his way towards the entrance. John quickly paid the driver before rushing after Sherlock.

"So, tell me about the case." John asked while they were walking down the corridors towards Lestrade's office.

"Husband and kid shot in the head by wife who then proceeded to kill herself, or that's at least what Anderson has managed to work out so it's probably completely wrong."

John only nodded in answer they continued to walk down the corridor, passing office after office.

They soon arrived at Lestrade's office and John stopped and knocked on the door. Lestrade opened without looking up, his eyes glued to the file in his hand. He sighed once and ran a hand through his greying hair.

"I assume you-" He looked up and stopped talking. "Where's Sherlock?" He asked with a frown.

"What do you mean, he's right...here." John had spun around when Lestrade asked for Sherlock and was now staring at the spot where he had assumed Sherlock was. He looked around in confusion and his eyes landed on Sherlock as he turned into another corridor.

"Where does that corridor lead to?" John asked and pointed in the direction Sherlock had gone.

"That? The kitchen. Why do-"

"You did by cottage cheese, didn't you?" John asked, already planning the route to the closest Tesco.

"Well, yes." Lestrade looked at him with a bemused expression. "Was I not supposed to?"

John didn't answer but instead began walking towards the kitchen, Lestrade close at his heels. They quickly reached the door and John paused outside, taking a deep breath. Beside him Lestrade frowned, once again confused by John's behaviour.

When they opened the door they found Sherlock with one hand extended towards a drawer and the other one holding a package of cottage cheese, on which he was staring wide eyed at. John let out a breath of relief at finding Sherlock calm.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade exclaimed, walking quickly up to the man who's head had snapped up at the sound of Lestrade's voice. Lestrade smiled widely when he noticed the bump on Sherlock stomach.

"Wow, you've gotten really big!" He remarked, sounding somewhat like a proud father. Sherlock's face adopted an almost perfect kicked puppy look at these words and the package in his hand fell to the floor.

If this had been a movie the package of cottage cheese would have fallen in slowmotion. You would have seen the package fall from several angles and when it finally hit the floor the sound would have been increased, pieces of cottage cheese flying dramatically everywhere. All this showing through the wonders of movie making just how devastating these words had been to Sherlock.

As it was, this was reality and the package dropping from Sherlock's hand landed on the floor with a rather pathetic sounding shlop and the contents bravely left their container.

John watched from the doorpost as Sherlock's lip began wobbling and his breaths becoming shallower.

"It's not my fault!" Sherlock shrieked, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Lestrade flinched at Sherlock's sudden outburst, not having recognized the signs of distress on Sherlock's face.

"It's the twins!" Sherlock continued. "I- I have to eat. It's- I...I...I..." He sobbed, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Opposite him Lestrade stood with a expression of horror on his face. He looked over at John who did a hugging motion with his arms. Lestrade awkwardly pulled Sherlock into a hug and the younger man buried his face in Lestrade's shoulder, sobs still shaking his body.

Noticing how uncomfortable Lestrade looked John walked over to the hugging pair but just before he was about to take over his eyes fell on the package on the floor. John tilted his head a bit to be able to read the text easier and when he could his face formed a disapproving pout. On the package it said COTTAGE CHEESE LIGHT in big letters.

John looked up at Lestrade who looked back at him with pleading eyes. No, John decided, he was not going to help Lestrade. The man had bought a light product when he had been specified to buy _only_ cottage cheese and then proceeded to call a pregnant man big while said man was holding the light product he knew was specially bought just for him. This was Lestrade's mistake, he had gotten himself in this mess and was damn well going to take care of it himself.

John licked his lips before mouthing at Lestrade, "No. Your fault. You will deal with it." and then walked away, deciding that he would have a coffee from one of the machines in the corridor before returning and helping Lestrade calm Sherlock. After all, he wasn't a complete asshole, he just wanted to have someone else take care of a hysterical Sherlock.

Lestrade could only stare as John walked, as calm as ever, out of the room. Sherlock was still shaking in his arms and he had absolutely no idea of how to deal with this. He slowly stroked Sherlock's back while making shushing noises, wishing that no one would walk in on him right now.

"you're not big." He whispered and Sherlock let out a loud wail, clutching harder at Lestrade's jacket. Jupp, Lestrade decided, this was the biggest mistake he had made in a long time.

* * *

**So this is a chapter I've had in my mind for I don't know how long but I just felt it was more or less mandatory to make Lestrade deal with an hormonal Sherlock. But this will be the last mood swings chapter for a while until we reach the third trimester.**

**The obsession with cottage cheese is a pure rip off of my own obsession. I Looooooooooove the stuff. I seriously sit and eat it right out of the package just because it's so delicious. That was just some trivia so there is no need to remember that.** **Anyhow...**

**Reviews are much welcomed :)**

**Love**

**/Phin**


	9. -5 Months 3 Weeks: Doodlings

**Hello again :)**

**This chapter is a bit of a nothing happens but it sure is fluffy chapter, because I felt like it.**

**anyway on with the chapter**

* * *

 

It was raining, well this was England so the fact that it was raining wasn't that much of a surprise, when John walked home. His umbrella lay forgotten by the door and for some reason he hadn't brought his wallet. John suspected that this was because of that experiment with leather Sherlock had done this morning, why the man couldn't use his own wallet remained a mystery to John.

However, because of the fact that he didn't have any money on him John had been forced to walk home in the pouring rain, and because he didn't have an umbrella he felt like a drowned cat by the time he reached 221B.

When he entered the flat he only spared a glance at Sherlock, who was petting his steadily growing baby bump, before rushing into the bedroom and literally throwing off his clothes. He quickly found and pulled on a pair of well worn jeans and a jumper before making his way to the kitchen for a cuppa.

Halfway there John's ears picked up the words _feel this_ and _won't be able to_ among Sherlock's low murmurs. Frowning he glanced at Sherlock who was lazily stroking a finger over his belly.

"What are you doing Sherlock?" He asked leaning back against the doorpost.

"I'm talking to the girls." Sherlock answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.

John looked around, bemused, searching for the girls Sherlock was talking to. He had heard stories about pregnant women sometimes doing something really weird but he never thought Sherlock would even allow his brain to consider considering doing something that didn't make sense to him. But then again, it wouldn't be the first time he had found Sherlock doing something that seemed utterly ridiculous but then turned out to make perfect sense (well almost at least) when Sherlock explained it.

"Wha- the girls?" He asked with a confused shake of his head.

"Yes, the girls. The babies John."

"They're girls?"

"Yes John, do try to keep up."

"But you can't possibly know the gender of the twins yet." John laughed. They wouldn't be able to find that out until the next ultrasound and besides, they had decided to let it be a surprise.

"Well I do." Sherlock sniffed and presumed the slow rubbing of his belly. He seemed to be writing something but John couldn't make it out from his current position. He pushed himself off the doorpost using his shoulders and walked over to Sherlock, looking down at the younger man sprawled out on the couch.

"And how do you know that?" John teased, smirking at his partner.

"I just do." Sherlock answered back, not showing the smallest discomfort in having John starting down at him. The staring competition continued until John wavered and looked away.

"Well that's very scientific Mr science." He added because he would bloody well be the one with the last word for once.

"What are you doing anyway?" John lifted Sherlock's legs and sat himself on the couch, Sherlock's legs in his lap. Sherlock's finger were still wandering around his belly but it now looked more like he drew random shapes and twirls instead of letters.

"I told you I'm talking with the girls."

"You _do_ know that it'll be another couple of weeks before they can hear you?" John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock but said man only glared at him in response. John held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay. It's just that to me it looks more like you're doodling on your stomach than anything else." He said and drew a vague shape in the air over Sherlock's belly with his hand.

"I was writing to them." Was all the answer John got, which wasn't enough by any standards. As far as John knew Sherlock had been 'talking' to the twins since at least moments before he came home.

"Writing what?"

"Your name, my name, where we live." Sherlock said, his finger still moving but it now looked like he had switched back to letters. "That we love them." He added with a small smile.

John couldn't help but smile back at Sherlock, feeling very privileged to see this humanity in his partner. Donovan should see this Sherlock he thought as he leaned down to capture Sherlock's lips in a kiss, she'd probably freak out and think Sherlock finally had gone mad.

"What are you telling them now then?" He asked when he had once again returned to sitting position.

"Elements of the periodic table and their atomic structure." Sherlock said as he carefully placed what was most certainly precisely calculated, but seemed more like random to John, dots around his belly button.

John decided that it would be best for all involved if he didn't comment on this and that a cuppa would be nice right now.

"Tea?" He asked as he struggled to untangled himself from Sherlock's limbs, the man wasn't exactly helping him. Sherlock nodded as he drew the number 8 and a large 'O' on his stomach.

A few minutes later John returned with the tea and once again sat down with Sherlock's legs in his lap.

"Can they feel it?" Sherlock asked after a moment of silence. John frowned and licked his lips, trying to remember if he had been taught that in med school.

"I, don't know. Not yet I think."

Sherlock didn't answer but instead shifted around on the couch until he and John were facing the TV, John's back against the armrest and Sherlock seated between his legs. He shuffled down further so he wouldn't obscure John's view. John's hands almost automatically came to rest on top of Sherlock's on his stomach.

They had cuddled a lot more lately, both in bed and on the couch. John liked these moments, it felt more like they were a family when they sat like this, somehow connected with the babies inside Sherlock, than it did before.

"Love you." He murmured and though he couldn't see it, he knew that Sherlock's face had lit up in that amazing, almost shy, smile he got when John told him that he loved him.

"Love you too." Sherlock whispered back and snuggled closer to John.

* * *

 

**So I need you guys to help me with something. Like a lot of you writers out there have probably experienced I have the twin's characters already planned out but I lack names for them, and I'm awful when it comes to making up names. So that's where you guys come in** **:D**

**If you want to you could just send some name suggestions a comment but bare in mind that the names have to sound good together, but I think you already knew that :)**

**As always any kind of comments are very much welcomed**

**Love**

**/Phin**


	10. -5 Months: Movement

**Hello again. Longer chapter and deductions this time. Yay! There is also some baby action in this chapter.**

* * *

 

Lestrade looked down at the body laying by his feet, glad that for once this wasn't the killing of some kind of disturbed mass murderer that likes to bind his victims to light posts with their own intestines. He shuddered at the memory and quickly put it back in his neat little mind box where he stored all of these gruesome killings.

He was waiting for Sherlock, well they all were but as always when Sherlock was called on a crime scene Anderson went as far away as possible to sulk, which made him look very alone. There were of course the officers patrolling around the yellow 'do not cross' lines surrounding the crime scene and other officers photographing the body and the surroundings but Lestrade still counted himself as alone.

He rolled back on his heels and then up on his toes a few times while observing the body. It was a middle aged man, white, brownish hair, normal looking, nothing special as far as Lestrade could see. He had been hit in the back of his head with a baseball bat which lay beside him.

To Lestrade it looked more like a robbery gone wrong than anything else, except for the fact that the victim's wallet was still in his pockets, and well filled to, and that other valuables such as clock and phone were also left untouched.

They didn't really need Sherlock for this, Anderson had been happy to point that out, but Lestrade still hadn't apologized for last time and figured that a nice murder would help on that apartment. Oh god, how fucked up didn't that sound? Anyway, he felt that he needed to apologise after all, because hormonal or not, one did not make Sherlock cry easily.

A few minutes later Sherlock and John arrived at the crime scene, Sherlock wearing what Lestrade assumed was once again John's jeans but with a jumper over his round belly this time.

With a deep breath Lestrade decided that he should start with the apology, in case Sherlock decided to dash off in the middle of everything.

"Sherlock, I want to apologise for-" He began but Sherlock cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Apology accepted. Now give me facts." Sherlock demanded and continued walking towards the body. Lestrade stood frozen to the spot for a few seconds before kicking into gear again.

"Middle aged man killed by a blow to the back of his head with a baseball batt. Name's Eric Green according to his drivers license. Looks like a robbery gone wrong but everything of value has been left untouched."

"Well it's obviously not a robbery." John muttered and both Sherlock and Lestrade stopped. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at John as if to say 'and what makes you think that?'.

"Well.." He began somewhat awkwardly. "that is to say, err... If you're going to rob someone you don't do it with a baseball bat, it's not especially threatening, you'd choose a knife or something."

Lestrade stared at John when he has finished. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Well yes of course." He said, correcting his coat a bit. "That's why we called you."

Sherlock stopped in front of the body and looked it over for a few seconds before diving down on his knees, not really managing his usual crouch because of his stomach, and going over every millimetre of the body. He carefully emptied pockets and refilled them, turned over and back clothes and turned the victim's head so it no longer faced the sky but now faced Lestrade's left trouser leg.

"His partner did it." Sherlock rose to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes, he tried brushing his knees but found that his stomach was in the way.

"His partner?"

"Yes, he was cheating in her so she killed him. She probably has a bad experience with cheating partners, most likely one of her parents cheating causing a split up in her family." Sherlock removed the rubber gloves from his hands and looked up at Lestrade who wore his usual 'you need to explain this' look.

"I'm surrounded by idiots. He's married, you can see the indentation the wedding ring has made on his finger but he's not wearing it. Why? He was on his way to meet up his other girlfriend whom didn't know he was married.

"His wife found out he was cheating on her by accident. He forgot his phone at home and the girlfriend sent a text of rather the suggestive kind which his wife saw. She grabbed a weapon, got here and killed him. There wasn't just one blow to the back of his head. The wife was furious and hit him several times, each time striking a different part of the skull."

"Wait a second. His phone is right here." Lestrade pointed at his left jacket pocket.

"The wife left it there after she killed him. Now the-"

"How can you possibly know that?"

"He's right handed." Sherlock answered like it explained everything. Both John and Lestrade looked at him with matching looks of confusion.

"I don't really make the connection here."

"John think! You're left handed, would you ever leave your phone in your right hand pocket?"

"No I... always have it in my left hand pocket."

"Exactly! We always place our most used object in pockets and places closest to our dominant hand. Left handed, left pocket. Right handed, right pocket." He pulled out his phone from his right pocket and waved it a moment before putting it back. "There are several signs of usage on this mans phone and the last text message he received has been read. So why would he put it in his left hand pocket, it's quite an unnatural movement. Therefore it must have been placed there after-" He suddenly stopped talking, a shocked expression on his face.

Lestrade was used to Sherlock stopping in the middle of his explanations and suddenly rush off someplace but in those cases he usually looked like he solved the riddle of how the universe looked and not like someone just sprayed him with cold water in the face.

He looked over at John who looked just as confused as he did over Sherlock's behavior. So this wasn't one of those pregnancy things then. He looked back at Sherlock who suddenly twitched, his blood disappearing from his face seconds later.

"John there is something wrong with the babies." He whispered, his hands pressing against his stomach.

"Oh shit. Sherlock what happened." John rushed forwards and began searching for some kind of damage. "What happened. What did you feel?"

"I don't know. It felt like something popped inside. I-I've felt something like it before but I just thought it was my digestive system but not. I- it was different. Oh god what if I've killed them?"

"Calm down Sherlock, it's probably nothing." John had now lifted up Sherlock's jumper, examining the his skin. He then slowed down his movements, pulled down the jumper and moved back a bit from Sherlock, who looked like he might faint. John began counting something on his fingers, mumbling the numbers under his breath.

"Nineteen." He whispered and tapped the finger with the number nineteen a couple of times before his face broke into a huge grin. "Nineteen Sherlock!" He happily exclaimed and his hands was back on Sherlock's belly before anyone could blink.

Sherlock no longer looked mortified but now instead looked like he might bite John's head of. "What do you nineteen?" He spat.

"Nineteen weeks Sherlock. It's the babies. You can feel the babies' movements from about week eighteen or so. You feel the babies move."

"I do?" Sherlock looked down at his stomach and placed a hand on the side. His face broke into a huge grin and he took hold of John's hand and placed on the same place as his was just a moment ago. "Can you feel them?"

"Naa, not yet. If you first felt them today it will take a couple of weeks before I feel them." John looked up at Sherlock and when the two of the kissed Lestrade began feeling like he intruded on a _very_ intimate moment.

Luckily Sherlock broke the kiss with the words "I need to pee." which quite effectively ruined the moment.

As Sherlock rushed away Lestrade moved closer to John, shifting a little for foot to foot before he spoke.

"So how's it going? With the pregnancy and all."

John looked at him with a rather surprised expression before clearing his throat.

"Fine. We were at the doctors about two weeks ago and the babies are fine. A bit small but perfectly healthy."

"And how's Sherlock?"

"He's been a bit paranoid lately, thinking he doesn't eat and sleep enough and stuff like that. But in the whole fine aswell. Walked in on him the other day drawing different elements form the periodic table on his stomach. Again."

Lestrade let out a socially required laugh and the two of them spent the next minute in silence. Lestrade did care a lot of Sherlock and he knew that the consulting detective cared of him in return, though he rarely showed it. He was glad Sherlock now had John now, working as a kind of translator between Sherlock and the rest of the world.

Lestrade had tried in the beginning when Sherlock had been nothing more than another drug addict but he never got the result John had. Sure Sherlock had opened up and told him about his family, which Lestrade wasn't sure he had done to John, but there had never been any follow up about the things Lestrade had learned about Sherlock.

"I'm hungry." Sherlock called from outside the police lining, his eyes fixed on the phone. How Sherlock had ended up there when he had walked away from them in the other direction was a mystery to Lestrade.

"You're always hungry." John called back.

"Not me, the twins."

John sighed and turned back to Lestrade. "Sorry mate. Got to go before he gets grumpy."

"Nice talking to you. See you over a pint sometime?"

"Sure. Just text." John gave him a clap on the arm and walked away towards Sherlock, who impatiently held up the yellow line for John to walk under. Lestrade turned back towards the forgotten body and sighed. Wife, wasn't it?

* * *

 

**So just a little short info on the babie's movements. I read that some women experience their baby's movements like popcorn popping and I thought it would be funny if Sherlock felt it like that aswell. So that's why it is like that.**

**Otherwise thank you all _so_ much for the name suggestions, there have been so many wonderful ones. Thank you. Though I still haven't decided upon names so if you have some you would like to suggest just go ahead. **

**Comments are very much welcomed :)**

**Love**

**/Phin**


	11. -3 Months 4 Weeks: Shopping

**Hello again. Sorry for the huge delay but I've been more or less drowning in school work lately and I haven't had the energy nor the time to write anything, which sucks :(**

**Luckily there won't be any school work until after the summer holidays which means I will be able to go back to posting a new chapter every other day or so :)**

**Anyway, on with the chapter**

* * *

"What about this one?" John said, holding up a blue dress in size 0-3 months. Sherlock gave the dress one look and turned back to his shelf of baby clothes.

"Aw come on, what's wrong with this one?" John sighed

"I never said there was anything wrong with it." Sherlock shrugged.

John dropped his head and breathed calmly for a second. "You don't like it. Why is that?"

"It's blue, I don't like blue."

"No, you like blue. You just don't like it because I chose it."

"That's preposterous." Sherlock mumbled while inspecting a yellow onesie, clearly not listening.

"I'm buying it."

"Mmmhm."

"Whether you like it or not." John sniffed and placed the dress in the basket he was carrying. Going out babyshopping had sounded like a great idea at first but it soon turned out that Sherlock was somehow even more stubborn than usual when it came to shopping. In the first store he had straight out refused to buy anything John had suggested and then proceeded to buy exactly what John had suggested in the next store _and then_ when John pointed this out proceeded to roll his eyes at him. So to say that John really hoped this shopping trip was over soon must have been the underestimation of the century.

"And we're not having another yellow onesie, you've already picked out three of them." John added when Sherlock placed the onesie in his basket.

"I can't really see the problem." Sherlock sniffed. "We're going to have twins John, four onesies aren't even close to enough."

"Look, the problem isn't the fact that they are onesies, it's that they are all yellow." John sighed. "Or purple." He added as an afterthought.

"I really don't see the problem with the colours."

"I hate to say this but they're all 'girl colours'" John did the air quotation marks at the girl colours and rolled his eyes at his wording, because honestly, what was even girl colours.

"Well, we're having girls." Sherlock answered matter of factly.

"We don't know that."

"If you're worried that if the twins will be boys, which they won't, they won't be able to wear these so called 'girl colours' you are refering to I can happily inform you that it's perfectly acceptable for boys to wear these colours in today's society." Sherlock managed somehow to sound exactly like John's history teacher in tenth grade, the one that made everyone sleep as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Yes, I know this Sherlock. But this works both ways and I will not have my children raised into stereotypes so we're getting a _variety_ of colours on the clothes and stuff like that." John said and grabbed a blue, grey, red, white, pink and green onesie from the shelf and placed in the shopping cart next to Sherlock's orgie of yellow and purple.

Sherlock stared at John knowing that if he were to argue now would be saying that he was wrong before. He stared at John a moment longer before giving up. It wasn't that John was wrong, he was very right indeed, it was just that Sherlock _really_ liked yellow and purple.

John was now heading towards the cashiers with the cart in front of him, clearly done with today's shopping. Sherlock walked after his the fastest he could, his belly was becoming really big now. As luck had it, he wasn't wadling as a duck yet. Ahh the small victories in life.

"John!"

"Oh what now Sherlock. I'm really tired and I just want to go home and have a cup of tea." John snapped and glared at Sherlock, silently daring him to so much even think about thinking about complaining.

"All of the clothes are in the same size."

John blinked a couple of times before groaning and beginning to walk back towards the baby clothing.

They spent another five minutes making sure they had at least one set basic clothing for the twins until they were nine months old and to Sherlock big delight he managed to sneak a sweater in the exact same eggplant purple as the shirt he had at home into the basket when John was busy gathering socks.

* * *

"I wore yellow when I was little"

"What?" John looked up from the teacup he had been absentmindedly stiring in. They had decided, or more like John had demanded, that they would have a break when they were done with the clothes and ordering the crips and all that stuff. Which is why they found themselves at a wayne's coffee right now, John having a cup of tea and a blueberry muffin and Sherlock eating John's blueberry muffin.

"I know that yellow isn't a girls colour, I wore it all the time when I was little." Sherlock said and nicked another piece of the muffin. "Or, at least when I was allowed to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" John asked, more than a little concerned. "the not being allowed part."

Sherlock shrugged. He did not often talk about his childhood, and he had good reasons not to want to, but sometimes he just...needed to let some out. It wasn't like he was abused or anything, he was quite loved actually. It was just that...whatever he did Mycroft had already done ten times better.

"My parents were very preservative and strikt. I was always dressed in blue, green, black or some other of the masculine colours when my parents got to choose and there was tons of lesson on being a 'real man' as father called it. Lessons involving hunting, proper etiquette, what you should like and do and all that stuff." Sherlock finished with a wave of his hand.

"So you're telling me your parents told you who you should be?" John asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought.

"No." Was the only answer Sherlock provided and John would have felt a bit more reassured that this wasn't the case if it hadn't sounded slightly like Sherlock was trying to convince himself. But then again parents trying to live through their children wasn't that uncommon.

"Okay." John sipped at his teacup and the conversation was dropped but John still couldn't shake the feeling of slight unease. Sherlock rarely talked about his childhood, or anytime before he met Lestrade and got clean for that matter, and if John were to be completely honest it didn't sound like Sherlock had had the best of childhoods. Not the worst either, of course not, but just not very good. But then again maybe he only told John about the bad moments for some reason. He decided that he would stick with that option for so long because otherwise he was going to drive Sherlock insane with his worry.

As Sherlock finished the last piece of the blueberry muffin a thought hit John.

"Why aren't you wearing yellow now then?" He asked and Sherlock stopped mid-chew only to give him a look that said ' _congratulations, you're now the stupidest person in this universe_ '.

"Hey, don't need to go all murderous on me. I was only asking."

Sherlock swallowed and cleared his throat before answering. "Because I look ridiculous in yellow." As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Hey, I don't think you'd look-" He began before the image of Sherlock dressed in one of his normal black suits appeared in his mind but instead of one of his usual shirts he wore a bright yellow one and quite frankly, he looked like a bumblebee. "Okay, I change my mind, you'd look ridiculous."

* * *

**Okay, so this chapter was a bit more serious than the others has been and these "Serious" chapter will come once in a while but it will mostly bee as it was before.**

**Just one thing more, I've almost figured out what the twins will be called (and no I'm not telling you) but suggestions are still very welcomed :)**

**And as always comments are lovely**

**Love  
/Phin**


	12. -3 Months 1 Week: Ice Cream

**So, this is now actually the only chapter I have done a kind of spell and grammar check on so far, awkwaaaard. Anyway, I'm planning on going through all of the other chapter soon since I'm now on summerbreak and have too much time on my hands.**

* * *

John donned his sunglasses as he walked out of the clinic. It was a lovely sunny day, probably the only one this summer, and everywhere you looked there were londoners enjoying the warm weather.

John had snuck out an hour earlier from work, planning on maybe going and have ice cream in the park with Sherlock. That would be nice to leave the flat and doing something fun together that wasn't chasing criminals through alleys for once. Not that Sherlock had done any chasing in quite some time, with the twins and all.

He inhaled deeply, the disgusting smell of exhaust hitting his nose, and his smiled turned a bit forced. Well, everything couldn't be perfect. He would have to settle for a day so wonderfully sunny that not even Mycroft would carry an umbrella, which John was seriously beginning to wonder if the man had married.

It was with a smile that John opened the door to 221B Baker street. It was with a smile John climbed the seventeen steps up to his and Sherlock's flat. It was with a smile John opened the door to his and Sherlock's flat. It was with a frown John regarded the sulking Sherlock on the couch.

"What's the matter with you?"John asked as he hang up his unused jacket on the coat rack. Sherlock didn't answer and merely continued with his sulking, lips set in a firm pout.

Deciding to ignore Sherlock's bad mood John asked "Wanna go to the park? I was thinking about maybe having some Ice cream and you know... A date?"

"No." Sherlock answered, sounding more like a stubborn five year old than the thirty one year old he was. Well, there went his day. John sighed and wondered if Sherlock had even left the couch today, it certainly didn't look like it. Deciding he needed something cold to drink he walked out in the kitchen and saw that his earlier assumptions were apparently wrong.

The kitchen table was somehow messier than usual and the mess had spread up on the countertop where row upon row of test tubes were aligned. On the floor in front of the countertop were at least glass from two test tubes and a milk white jello-like liquid with some weird looking dots in. John pursed his lips and gave the kitchen a once over before walking back into the living room.

"Sherlock." He began, tilting his head to the left. "What the hell is that milky liquid and the shattered test tubes doing on our kitchen floor?"

"I was going to clean it up." Sherlock muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking even more like a stubborn five year old.

"And why haven't you?" The fact that John sounded like the mother of a stubborn five year old hadn't crossed his mind.

Sherlock didn't answer at first and just continued sulking but after five minutes of a silent game of _if I can't see him he can't see me_ with John staring expectantly at Sherlock and Sherlock looking anywhere except John Sherlock finally gave in.

"I couldn't reach the glass." He muttered under his breath.

"What?" John frowned. This was not the answer John had expected, not even close.

"You heard me perfectly well the first time." Sherlock spat.

"You couldn't reach the glass?"

"Yes, I've told you."

"Why?"

"Because the twins was in the way." Sherlock whispered, as if him being pregnant was some kind of secret.

John stared at Sherlock in disbelief for a second before he burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching his stomach. Oh good. He wished he had been there, watching Sherlock trying to bend over enough to clean up.

"John! John stop it! It's not funny John!" Sherlock shouted from his position on the couch.

"Oh it surely is." John answered, still giggling.

"No it's not! My feet ache, my back is killing me, it's too fucking warm, I need to pee all the time, I can't get up from the couch, the twins have been hiccuping and kicking interchangeably all day and now my boyfriend is laughing his ass off at me!" Sherlock looked on the verge of tears by the end of his rant and John suddenly felt like a complete jerk. "And my legs are cramping!"

"Oh." Was all John could bring himself to say at that. Awkwardly he sat down and put an arm around Sherlock who did an half hearted attempt to shake it off.

"I can give you a massage for your back, if you'd like." He asked cautiously, hoping that Sherlock didn't think this idiotic, but Sherlock only nodded and shifted so he was sitting with his back towards John.

John slowly brought his hands up and began kneading the muscles in Sherlock's back, however not feeling Sherlock's tension disappear. After just over two minutes of massaging Sherlock spoke up.

"John stop. You're the worst massager in the history of mankind."

John quickly removed his hands from Sherlock's back, not liking that he made Sherlock's day worse.

"Um...Is there anything I can-"

"Bring me the Ben and Jerry's in the freezer." Sherlock barked, pointing a finger at said freezer. John looked into the kitchen and then back at Sherlock, then into the kitchen and back at Sherlock again, and then once more. Sherlock had never shown any interest in trivial things such as ice cream before. But then again he had quite a sweet tooth.

Still feeling like a jerk for laughing at his partner John got up and obediently brought the ice cream and a spoon. When he gave Sherlock the tub Sherlock more or less ripped off the cap and thrust it in John's direction. John placed the cap on the coffee table and once again sat down next to Sherlock, who had balanced the ice cream tub on top of his belly and looked quite pleased with his current situation.

They sat like this for a few minutes, Sherlock spooning ice cream into his mouth and John sitting quietly by his side, before John decided that the weather did indeed call for a cold pint. With a huff he got off the couch -he could understand why Sherlock couldn't get off it, even he had problems- and walked into the kitchen.

The floor was still a mess but he figured he'd let that pass till another day, or at least until the sun had set. He opened the fridge and began searching the shelves when suddenly Sherlock's voice rang out through the flat.

"Please, give me a break!"

There was a loud groan after and when John looked back into the living room, beer can in hand, Sherlock was giving his stomach murderous looks.

"Why are you trying to kill our unborn children?" John questioned, not really knowing if he would want the answer.

"They won't stay still." Sherlock huffed, spooning another spoon of Strawberry Cheesecake in his mouth.

"Can, can I feel it?" John had yet to feel the twins move, even though it had been little over eight weeks since Sherlock first felt them move. This depended on a lot of things, but mostly of John simply forgetting that he should be able to feel them kick by now, which was a very weird thing to forget.

Sherlock looked up at him with a surprised expression on his face and then looked back down at his stomach. He slowly moved the tub of ice cream away and John took that as a yes. When he kneeled in front of Sherlock his partner grabbed his hand and placed it on the left side of his belly, over the navel.

The sat like this for quite a while, John's hopes sinking with each passing minute and Sherlock just enjoying his moment of peace. Suddenly, John felt something bump against his palm and looked up at Sherlock for confirmation, not believing his own senses. Sherlock nodded once and smiled.

"That's amazing." John laughed, placing his other hand on Sherlock only to have Sherlock move it to a better place, not that John minded though. Another bump came soon and John felt like his face might split in two for he was grinning so hard.

"Did you feel it?"

"Yeah." John breathed, still not quite believing it.

"Then come here." Sherlock patted the cushion beside him and John moved from his place in front of Sherlock and sat down only to have Sherlock snuggling up against him, offering him a spoon of the ice cream. John gladly accepted the offer and decided that sitting in your flat with a beer in your hand and your pregnant partner eating ice cream straight from the tub next to you was probably a better date than a cone of ice cream in the park ever could have been.


	13. -2 Months 2 Weeks: Assemble

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yes John, just do it!"

"Ok, here I go."

"Ah!"

"What?"

"Slower"

"Ok...Like so?"

"Mmm."

"Ok?"

"Yes, for god sakes move. I can't do this much longer!"

"Ok, calm down I'm doing it!"

"Harder John"

"Mmmmgfh."

"Harder!"

"I am doing the hardest I can!"

"Well it's not enough!"

"You know what Sherlock. This isn't working."

"Yes it is, just push harder!"

"No. We must have done it wrong somewhere."

"No we didn't, you just need to push harder and it'll click!"

"Wait, let me just check the instructions."

"Fine! I'm not holding this anymore!" Sherlock dropped the piece of wood he was holding. It was supposed to be one of the edges to the crib they were assembling but no matter what they did it wouldn't connect with the bottom piece.

Fucking IKEA and their fucking descriptions, Sherlock had solved murders easier than assembling this fucking thing. In fact, he was quite sure he had more knowledge about the solar system than he had about how IKEA furniture works. IKEA, destroyer of relationships since 1943. Fucking Swedes.

"Sherlock, I think we may have turned a few things the wrong way around." John mumbled while studying the instructions. He turned them around a few times until he was sure he had them the right side up. "Jupp, we definitely messed this up."

Sherlock moved from his position on the bed, with a bit of difficulty, and picked up one of the drawers to the wardrobes they had bought. He perched himself on the bed once again and began tearing at the plastic around the white wooden pieces.

"Hey, help me instead!" John called from the floor, a screwdriver in his mouth and hands fully occupied with trying to separate two of the crib parts.

"I'm tired."

"Tired, you lifted the bloody lightest piece. Mine weighed four times the weight of yours!"

"Pregnant."

John let out a small laugh and smiled while shaking his head. "Okey okey. You do that and I'll do this and then we'll have a cuppa." He said and checked the descriptions again.

"Lovely." Sherlock muttered and flipped the instructions open. He began searching for the first part and had to flip each of the three 'walls' of the drawer at least two times before he found the one with the correct amount of holes on the right side. He reached for the screwdriver on the bed and used the blunt head to hammer down the dowels in their holes.

By the time he finished with the first side and discovered he had to repeat the process but reversed John had flipped the wrongly mounted pieces and was now trying to fit the bottom and the side piece together once again. With a _very_ satisfying click the pieces slid into place and John let out a pleased breath. He then sat down and began assembling the othe side of the bed, which involved what could possibly be a thousand wooden dowels and an equal amount of screws.

After five minutes of silent puzzling John spoke up.

"How about Grace?"

Sherlock looked up from where he was trying to figure out the sliding mechanism and raised an eyebrow at John.

"Grace?"

"Yeah, Grace Watson Holmes."

They had been discussing baby names for almost a month now and it had somehow become a rule that whenever you thought of a good name you were to say it out loud.

Sherlock tested the name and shrugged, It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either.

"Lily, or maybe Elizabeth." He supplied and John frowned.

"Naa, not really. Too...ordinary. And isn't Lily one of those Harry Potter names everyone is naming their kids after now?"

"Harry Potter?"

"You know what. Forget that. How about Thomas, we could call him Tom, or Henry?" John said and banged two corners of the crib together.

"For the last time John we're having girls." Sherlock sighed and managed to drop the bag of dowels on the floor. Both of them looked at where the bag landed and when John looked up at his partner Sherlock had already turned on the kicked puppy eyes.

John sighed and got up to fetch the bag for Sherlock. "How do you know that?"

"I can feel it." Sherlock sniffed but when John gave him the bag he still reached up and gave John a peck on the lips and a 'thanks'.

"You do know that's just bullshit. Every time someone is correct on their baby's sex they get all excited but every time someone is wrong it's just whatever. We only hear about the times it's been guessed correctly and therefore everyone thinks pregnant people have these superpowers."

"Well...Hamish then?"

"Hamish?" John laughed. "You want to give our child my middle name?"

"I'm not giving it mine. And Hamish is a perfectly alright name."

"What was your middle name now again." John mused, not hearing what Sherlock had said. "it was something like Thor. Thor... Thorstein,Thoronoloy. Wait, wait...Torkoal! No that's a pokemon isn't it?"

John continued his chant of different names beginning with Thor before Sherlock had enough.

"It's Thornley."

"THORNLEY!" John exclaimed, pointing his screwdriver at Sherlock. "Yeah okay we're not naming our child Thornley." He continued with a little nod. "Sherlock Thornley Holmes. Didn't your parents know any normal names?"

"They're all old family names. Sherlock after my father's father and Thornley after my father, who got his name after his mother's father." Sherlock explained.

"Gee, and I though Hamish was bad. It's decided then. No family names."

Sherlock nodded and began working on the second drawer. John returned to his work with the crib and they continued their name suggestions. Over the course of the afternoon they went through names such as Susan, Delilah, Daniel, Sofia, Sophia, Issac, Olivia, James, Charlie, Liam, Amelia and Tilde.

By the time John had finished the crib and the tea had been made they had limited it down to a couple of names. Charlie and Joel or Michael and Daniel for boys. Alexandra and Erica or Susan and Amy for girls.

* * *

**Loved writing the begining. Did you fall for it? Yeah of course you did you horny bastard, we all know you're just here for the sex. Haha, no just kidding. Please don't be mad. I love you!**

**So as you've seen I've included the names in this chapter and I just have to say I've had absolutely lovely name suggestions and I've tried to include at least one name from each suggestion.**

**Moreover I've also decided upon what to call the twins :D And because I'm a sneaky bastard I won't tell you whether it's the names John and Sherlock decided upon here or if it's some other names *evil laugh***

**This also means that I won't be needing any more name suggestions but thank you. It has really helped me :D**

**Reviews are lovely**

**Love**

**/Phin**


	14. -1 Month 3 Weeks: The yard

**Hello again. So so so very sorry for the long wait but this has happened. Ready? I discovered Minecraft and I've been obsessed ever since. And then I left for a Harry Potter convention so I completely forgot about this story :( [Why Phin? Why!]**

**I hope I make it up to you with two chapters though and I hope I can update faster next time.**

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The taxi had barely stopped before Sherlock had stepped out and begun waddling towards the crime scene. Yes, waddling. He had reached that state of pregnancy were normal walking was no longer possible, and yes, John had teased him about it. It had not been one of his greatest decisions considering the mood swings had also returned and John's little teasing had resulted in Sherlock locking himself in the bedroom and John having to beg for Sherlock's forgiveness.

He hadn't mentioned Sherlock walk (waddling, oh god how he was waddling) ever since and had planned to inform Lestrade on the strict non teasing rule as soon as he found out why the man had called them in so late in Sherlock's pregnancy.

They quickly reached the crime scene and Sherlock headed straight to the body while John walked over to Lestrade, standing and watching from afar.

"Hi."

"Hello John." Lestrade greeted and the two stood in silence for a moment, watching Sherlock hovering around the body.

"When is he due?" Lestrade suddenly asked and jerked his head in Sherlock's direction.

"Fourth of September, but twins are usually early so we're planning on earlier." John answered and couldn't really keep the pride out of his voice.

"Okay." Lestrade gave him a small smile. They watched in silence as Sherlock tried, and failed, to bend down and observe the body closer and then instead settled for examining the surroundings.

"Not that I doubt your judgement Lestrade," John began somewhat hesitantly. "But why did you call in Sherlock for this?" He had assumed they had a silent agreement that Sherlock was now on forced maternity leave and weren't to return until sometime after the pregnancy, hopefully at least six months.

"Actually I was just about to ask you the same thing. Sherlock called and literally demanded a crime scene, and when I asked about what you thought of the matter he said that you had agreed. Considering this isn't a specially dangerous case I allowed it." Lestrade finished but sounded less sure about his decision the more he spoke.

"Oh." John said, sounding as if Sherlock once again had unplugged the refrigerator two days before christmas (for science John!). "Well he told me you had phoned about a _very_ urgent case and that his presence was crucial for the safety of London, literally."

John turned his attention towards Sherlock and let out a mighty "SHERLOCK!" which caused the detective in question to freeze on the spot before slowly turning around. John raised an eyebrow and Sherlock began walking towards him. At that moment any doubt that John wouldn't be able to handle twins completely left Lestrade's brain. If the man could handle Sherlock then he could handle anything.

As Sherlock was walking, or doing the pregnancy walk as lestrade's ten year old niece had called it, Donovan and Anderson appeared at the scene and with a strangled laugh began mimicking Sherlock's waddling.

At the sound of laughed Sherlock whipped around, as fast as he could, and when he laid eyes on Donovan and Anderson Lestrade swore he could see steam steaming from Sherlock ears.

Lestrade had just enough time to look over at John, who looked like he might strangle someone, before hell broke loose.

Sherlock sprinted towards the two laughing officers, which only made them laugh harder, before all kinds of secrets were flooding out of him mouth. Secrets about Anderson's and Donovan's personal life, secrets about their relationship together and, surprisingly, secrets about their relatives. Apparently Anderson had a uncle who was a drug addict and Donovan's sister had her period last week.

Within seconds John had reached his upset partner and was trying to stop the steady stream of insults coming from said partner's tongue. Anderson and Donovan were now shouting back loudly and Lestrade felt it was time for him to interfere before things got uglier.

With a firm hand he took hold of both officer's shoulders and began leading them out of the room. John took hold of Sherlock head with both of his hands and forced the pregnant man to look him in the eyes.

"Calm down." He commanded with a steady voice. "You don't look stupid neither do you look silly or any of the other worries you have." He informed Sherlock while looking him deeply in the eyes. Sherlock minutely relaxed and his breathing slowed down.

When he had calmed down enough John planted a quick kiss on his lips before interwinding their fingers and leading Sherlock out of the room.

"You're grounded until the twins first birthday." John said and gave Sherlock a stern look. "And no more experiments for a week."


	15. -2 Weeks: Mrs Hudson

"Woho!" There was a knock on the door before Mrs Hudson stuck her head through the opening and searched the flat for life.

John and Sherlock were seated on the couch, John rubbing Sherlock feet (he was actually quite good at that) and Sherlock emptying another package of cottage cheese. Both of them whipped their heads around at the sound of someone at the door but upon seeing who it was Sherlock just returned to his cottage cheese eating while John tried to disentangle himself from his partner's long legs.

With a huff John finally get off the couch and quickly went to open the door. Mrs Hudson gave him a hug and then loaded the bags she was carrying in John's arms and moved on to hug Sherlock, who had rearranged himself into a better position on the couch when he realised he wouldn't escape Mrs Hudson's hug.

"Oh it's so lovely to see you boys. How are you feeling Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked with a smile and Sherlock barely had time to answer before she was talking again. "Oh this is so exciting. A baby here at Baker street. Imagine that. I brought some things for the twins it's in the bag."

She hurried off to where John was still standing with the bag in his hands. She took it and returned to the couch and sat down next to Sherlock.

"Oh, I made this blueberry pie as well, your favourite Sherlock, although it didn't turn out like I wanted it." She pulled out a plate with a perfect looking pie on and placed it on the table in front of Sherlock before she continued. "I hope it's alright. Oh look at it, I didn't use enough butter." She fussed.

"It's more than enough Emma." Sherlock said and gave her a one armed hug.

John, who had watched the conversation from his place by the door, was once again surprised of how much of his hidden sweet side Sherlock showed around Mrs Hudson. He had once been told that Sherlock considered Mrs. Hudson the mother he had never had but John had never gotten the whole backstory to that statement. Seeing now how they sat and conversed it was clear that the relationship between the landlady and the detective was very much like that between mother and son, or at least aunt and nephew.

When the cake was brought out John decided that a cuppa would be very good right now. "I'll put on the kettle and fetch a couple of plates." He said and disappeared into the kitchen.

Mrs Hudson turned to Sherlock and gave him a serious look.

"Now, tell me." She placed a hand on his knee. "How are things going between you and John?"

"Good. Really good. He always listens to me and never tells me to change, he even allows the experiments without a single complaint. He understands when no one else has and he is always there to handle people when they get tedious. I love him and he loves me." Sherlock was smiling bigger by each words and looked down at his hands. This wasn't something he would tell anyone except Mrs Hudson, and John of course, and he felt oddly shy telling her this.

Mrs Hudson let out a delighted little hum and clasped her hands in front of her chest, looking at Sherlock proudly.

"Well I'm very happy for the two of you. I told you John would be different, didn't I?" She said with a smile. "And twins and everything, well that wasn't such a surprise the way you two keep at it." She winked and Sherlock wondered how loud they really were during sex.

John chose that moment to enter with a tray of tea cups and plates for the pie. Together they handed out a plate and cup for everyone and served the pie and tea.

After a minute of silent eating Mrs Hudson suddenly remembered her bag.

"Oh, I forgot. I have something for the twins." She pulled out two white knitted sweaters, decorated with a complicated star pattern, four pairs of knitted socks, pink and blue, and two knitted scarves, one navy blue and one rusty red.

"Mrs Hudson, you shouldn't have." John said as he inspected the tiny sweaters. They were really remarkable, had she really knitted them herself? "Did you do this all by yourself?"

"Oh yes. I set out to buy yarn as soon as I got to know Sherlock was pregnant. I remember I ran into Mrs Turner next door, with the married ones, and I told her the good news." She tutted and shook her head as if someone was troubling her. "You can never guess what that hideous woman said. She told me how pregnancy was something only for women and told me to tell you to get rid of the abomination. To think something like that." She sounded mortified by the end of her story and leaned closer to John as if the closeness would make him understand her better.

She then sucked in breath and took Sherlock's hand. "But I told her that the baby was a blessing and that if she couldn't see that she shouldn't bother coming to our bridge and knitting nights anymore." She tutted and shook her head a few times before letting go of Sherlock's hand and beginning to fuss over the sock and how she lost a stitch on the heel of one sock.

John didn't hear what was said though, his mind completely occupied with why Mrs Hudson had taken Sherlock's hand during the conversation. He wondered if it was related to his conservative parents, knowing that seeing male pregnancy as unnatural was very rare but often occurred among old fashioned people. The laws allowing males to get pregnant was introduced in the 1950's and laws giving pregnant males have been around since early 70's. But still, fertile males were among one of the victims during WWII and since it was so connected with homosexuallity it was still ofter frowned upon but mostly accepted in society. Neil Patrick Harris husband's pregnancy a couple of years ago had help a lot though and both of them were still very much loved by the public.

"Do you know the sex yet?" Mrs Hudson asked suddenly asked.

"They're girls."

"No we want it to be a surprise." John and Sherlock answered at the same time, both of them glaring at each other after the other's answer.

"A surprise." Mrs Hudson exclaimed and John gave Sherlock a 'I told you so' look. "Well lucky then I made clothes for all outcomes."

"Speaking of the clothes." John interjected, having noticed that the scarves were too big for any baby, or toddler for that matter. "The scarves?"

"Oh, those are for you. I noticed that Sherlock's beloved one had begun fraying at the edges and I thought with the winter coming and all the spare yarn I had I could make you both matching scarves. The blue one is yours Sherlock and the red one is yours John. Oh I hope a red one is alright. I saw the red shirt you were wearing and you looked so lovely in it." She said while winding the blue scarf around Sherlock's neck, who surprisingly allowed it without objection. She moved back to get a better look at how it all looked and cooed when she saw the result.

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about parenting and gossiping about the neighbours. Although it was mostly Mrs Hudson who talked an only she who gossiped. The pie turned into dinner which turned into another cup of tea and an episode of QI.

When the clock struck nine Mrs Hudson retreated back down to 221a but not without promising the boys that they could ask her about anything, she had worked at a nursery once, they could talk to her. With a hug and a kiss on the cheek for both of them, something Sherlock even forced himself out of the couch for, she said goodbye and left with a little _toodeloo_.

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**So that was those two chapters. These were actually based on requests. The first one on a request from zoofreakpkh who asked for a hormonal Sherlock, Sally, Anderson and BAMF!John. I didn't really follow the request but almost. The other chapter is based on a request from mia-dcwut-09 (both over at Fanfiction.net) who wanted to see Mrs Hudson (and honestly, didn't we all). So credit for these chapter goes to them :)**

**On the subjects of request, I will be taking requests on subjects and plots and characters as soon as the twins are born so if you have something you want to see you don't have to wait much longer. Considering there is only two weeks of Sherlock's pregnancy left :O**

**And on the subject of twins being born. I've been having some trouble in deciding whether or not the birth will be graphic, Aka, whether or not I will have it described from John's POV while he's with Sherlock (who's giving birth but I know you're smart and understood that) or it will be POV from someone waiting outside in the hospital hall. I'm leaning a bit towards John's POV (already having a bit written in my head) but I have still not decided. Help me people of the interwebs.**

**Anyway now I'm done with that long ass author's note.**

**Comments are amazingly brilliant :D**

**Love  
/Phin**


	16. Babies

**Okay so here it finally is. The chapter I have been dreading since I started this fiction. THE BIRTH! Which I have tried to make as realistic as possible**

**I've done quite a lot of research on labour and watched a few videos (and am now terrified to give birth myself) but since I've never myself experienced any kind of labour I can't claim this to be accurate but I try.**

**Also because this is fiction and it has to be interesting I've also taken some liberties with the birth, such as the twins positions being perfect for labour and that there won't be any complications.**

**I have also chosen to not give Sherlock any strong pain medications because when a woman is given an epidural, which is one of the most common pain medications when going through labour, the labour is more or less painless and very undramatic. Which is excellent in real life, but not in fictions. I have Sherlock's earlier drug use as an excuse for not using epidural but that is unfortunately the only excuse except it gets more exciting without that I can give for Sherlock not having strong medications.**

**I also haven't told you this in the earlier chapters because I thought you couldn't tell but apparently you can so I'm telling you now. The twins are identical twins. I don't know how one can tell this but in one of the videos I watched the woman said that her twins were identical so apparently you can tell before birth.**

**Okay enough with the theory part. Let's get Sherlock into labour.**

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Lestrade stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as John rushed around the flat. Sherlock, who was the size of a planet in Lestrade's eyes, sat on the couch, sipping tea and chatting with Mrs Hudson.

"Sherlock! Where are the case files? I swear I saw them yesterday." John called from their bedroom.

"On Sherlock's desk, next to his encyclopedias dearie." Mrs Hudson informed him and then turned her head towards Lestrade.

"Thanks Mrs Hudson."

"And who is this dashing young man?" She elbowed Sherlock slightly in the side and Lestrade felt a blush creeping up his cheek. He felt like a teenager being inspected by the family as he waited for his date to get ready.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade, Idiot and Scotland Yard's best detective. After me of course." Sherlock replied with a jerk of his head in Lestrade's direction.

"Pleasure." Lestrade walked into the flat and shook Mrs Hudson. He considered glaring at Sherlock for his comment but still wasn't sure whether it was a compliment or an insult so he decided against.

"Mrs Hudson. I'm the landlady." She grabbed hold of Lestrade's offered hand with both of hers and shook it like one would shake a dice. She reminded Lestrade quite a lot of his own grandmother, bless her soul.

John returned from the bedroom, casefiles tucked under his arm and a blue duffle bag hanging from one shoulder.

"Here you go. Sherlock has read through them as you asked." He said and handed Lestrade the files. "I hope there won't be any more troublesome cases for the next couple of months. We all need some time off." He continued with a pointed voice, giving Lestrade a meaningful look that made Lestrade wish he would never anger John, ever.

He nodded and John turned to place the duffle bag by the door.

"Going away?" He asked and when John frowned he gestured towards the bag.

"Oh! No, that the labour kit. Had it prepared for a while but it felt safe to have it by the door, you know."

"Okay." The two stood in awkward silence for a minute, listening to Mrs Hudson chatting away.

"So when is he due, a week or-"

"Nine days." John cut him off. "But twins are usually early so we're planning ahead."

"Okay...Well I'll better be off then." Lestrade turned around to leave when Mrs Hudson spoke up.

"Why don't you stay for a cuppa. There's biscuits, unless Sherlock's eaten them all."

Lestrade turned around and looked at John for an answer.

"Yeah, sure sure. I'll just fetch a cup." He rushed away into the kitchen and Lestrade shrugged off his coat and sat down in one of the armchairs. John soon returned with a cup and sat down opposite Lestrade, listening in on whatever subject Mrs Hudson was talking about at the moment.

After ten minutes Sherlock suddenly grunted, his hand moving to press on the underside of his belly. He soon relaxed though and straightened up again, flashing them all an apologetic smile.

"Are you alright?" John asked already half way up his chair, his eyes darting between Sherlock and the front door.

"Yeah. Braxton Hicks. Nothing to worry about." He waved a dismissive hand and sipped his tea.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

John sat back down in his chair but still remain rigid. Lestrade looked between the two, confused.

"Braxton Hicks?" He asked and John's eyes snapped away from Sherlock to look at him.

"Oh they're these awful cramps you get when you're pregnant. Sherlock's had them for a while, had a little fright the first time he felt them, but I told him. Take a walk or a warm bath and you will be alright. You see when I was pregnant with Emma, my daughter, I thought I was going into labour and Gerald, my late husband, and I took the car and drove for an hour so to the hospital at two in the morning only to be told that there was nothing to worry about." Mrs Hudson chuckled and patted Sherlock on his leg before leaning back, lost in memories.

Lestrade shot John a questioning look and he responded with a nod, mouthing _she does that_ at him.

Another quarter of tea drinking and story telling passed and Lestrade began to feel really comfortable -Sherlock wasn't half as annoying as when he's at crime scenes and Lestrade felt that he might have been a bit harsh on why John actually stayed with Sherlock, the man wasn't half bad- when Sherlock for the second time during Lestrade's visit grimaced and held his belly.

"Sherlock, are you-"

"I'm fine John."

"You know that if you're really going into labour we should-"

"It is only Braxton Hicks John. They are no worse than those yesterday or the day before that."

"Okay, I'm just making sure."

"Leave him dear." Mrs Hudson place a hand on John's and looked him deeply in the eyes. "If he goes into labour we will know and there will be plenty of time to get him to the hospital. It's not like in the movies where the water breaks and you give birth five minutes later, it doesn't work like that." She spoke with a calm and controlled voice, sounding very different from her usual rambling self.

John nodded and the conversation continued, somewhat strained in the first minutes. Lestrade began to suspect that this conversation was one that had taken place quite often before today.

When Sherlock groaned once again after only ten minutes, and this time it sounded a bit more painful than the previous times, John set down his cup with a clink.

"Okay. I'm taking you to the hospital." He said, stood up and began to clear away the tea.

"No. I'm fine."

"The cramps have been getting closer and this last one sounded like it was stronger, _you_ are clearly going into labour." He pointed at Sherlock who gave him a death glare back.

"No. It is only Braxton Hicks contractions." Sherlock spoke slowly, as if John was too stupid to understand him otherwise.

"I am the doctor in this family and I say you're going into labour."

"And _I_ am the pregnant one in this family and I say it's only Braxton Hicks." Had he been able to Sherlock would surely have stood up and towered over John but as it was he could only glare daggers at John. Not that it would have made any different for Lestrade if he received that look from a Sherlock glaring up at him or down on him, he would have been terrified either way.

"Maybe I should leave." He said and began rising. However, A look from John stopped him and he sat down again.

"Sherlock." John began in a calm voice.

"John." Sherlock answered, equally calm and the stare down continued.

Suddenly Sherlock's eyes widened and a shudder went through his body. He looked down towards his crotch and then back up, and then back down again, and back up. John's angry expression had now changed to a worried one.

"Sherlock?" He asked, voice filled with concern.

"I've changed my mind." The words flew so fast out of Sherlock's mouth that Lestrade had trouble hearing what had actually been said.

"What?" Now it was John's turn to widen his eyes.

"I've changed my mind. I want to go to the hospital."

"Why?"

"Water broke."

"Oh...okay."

The paired continued to stare at eachother, apparently unable to act. Lestrade's eyes darted between John and Sherlock, trying to act himself. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to do something? Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

"Well then chop chop boy." Mrs Hudson suddenly said, sounding a bit panicked, and clasped her hand together.

The next few minutes was a chaos of people rushing everywhere, mostly John, people fussing over Sherlock, mostly John here aswell but Mrs Hudson gave him a fair match, Lestrade trying to make himself useful somehow, not very successfully, and Sherlock trying to get out of the couch.

Eventually John had gathered everything he thought he needed and some more, Sherlock had been helped out of the couch, Mrs Hudson had hugged them all and Lestrade had found something he could do, drive the pair to the hospital.

* * *

When they had arrived at the hospital and explained the situation Sherlock had been taken to a doctor where they had first checked how dilated he was and then proceeded to give him an ultrasound to see how the twins positions were and whether a c-section was necessary or not. Apparently Sherlock was lucky, or that depends on how one wants to give birth but John counted it as lucky, and the twins were both in a good position and Sherlock should be able to give birth without complications.

Because that both his water had broken and that he was dilated around 3 cm, and had therefore entered what the doctors called 'the active phase', Sherlock was assigned a room where he could wait until he was fully dilated. Their chosen doctor, Thomas Markson who had been with them during the whole pregnancy, would check in on them regularly, asking questions about how Sherlock felt and examine how dilated he was.

Which was how they had gotten in their current position, Sherlock in a hospital, wearing nothing but the gown, and John sitting in a chair next to him, their fingers intertwined.

"Why can't I just give birth right now?" Sherlock whined after a contraction. The contractions were still rather far apart and not yet very painful but after almost three hours Sherlock was tired of waiting.

John had asked Sherlock what the contractions felt like but Sherlock had only answered with _a cramp-like sensation around my rectrum_ which John had found very scientifically correct, but not very helpful. Dr Markson had told him that some women compared it to very painful menstrual cramps which John had found a bit more helpful.

When John was fifteen years old and had heard Harry complain about menstrual cramps he had foolishly asked her how much it could really hurt, she was only bleeding a bit. He remembered vividly as Harry had fixed him with a glare that could stop a tidal wave and answered _'It's like being sucker punched in the vagina._ and then proceeded to sucker punch him in the balls, with her knee. To say that he had some respect for anything even slightly resembling menstrual cramps was an understatement. He firmly believed that if women could go around with that pain for a week each month and still live their life like normal there were few things that could stop them if they really wanted something.

"Because you're only five centimeter dila-ah." Sherlock suddenly squeezed his hand quite painfully, exhaling slowly through his nose. "Please let go." John squeaked.

"No."

The grip on John's hand loosened but, true to his words, Sherlock didn't let go.

"At least let me readjust my grip." John said, untwinned their fingers and then took a firm grip of Sherlock's hand once again.

"That one was stronger than the last ones." He commented and Sherlock nodded, his eyes closed and still breathing slowly through his nose.

"Fetch me a glass of water." Sherlock looked up at John with tired eyes. John got out of his chair and placed a kiss on Sherlock forehead before walking out in the corridor and towards one of the toilets.

When he came back Dr. Markson was in the room, head under the sheets covering Sherlocks legs, apparently checking in on how the dilation was going. John quickly walked over to Sherlock, took his hand, placed the plastic mug of water on a table near the bed and placed himself next to the bed.

A few seconds later Dr Markson rose and pulled down the covers so they covered all of Sherlock's legs once again.

"Six centimeters Sherlock." He said and pulled of his plastic gloves. "We're getting there. Now, how are you feeling? Any changes?"

"More pain during contractions." Sherlock murmured and the grip on John's hand grew painfully strong again. Both John and Sherlock grimaced at the pain and Dr Markson let out a low chuckle.

"Well I can see that."

" Is there anything we can bring you to ease your pain?" He asked when Sherlock's contraction eased off. Sherlock shook his head and motioned towards the plastic mug, which John handed him.

"Okay. I'm just going to check on your readings." Dr Markson said and examined the various readings on different screens.

"Everything seems fine here as well. I'll leave you to it then. If there are any complications, or questions for that matter, don't hesitate to call." He smiled and left the pair alone.

"How are you feeling?" John asked and removed a stray lock from Sherlock's forehead.

"Bored." Sherlock answered with a sigh.

John let out a hearty laugh. "Only you could feel bored when giving birth."

Sherlock smiled and looked away, fidgeting a little with his blanket.

"A bit anxious. What if something happens John?"

John looked down at Sherlock who was still facing the other direction. With a little sigh he sat down on the bed and rubbed a circle with his thumb on the back of Sherlock's hand.

"What if I do something wrong John? What if one of them dies? What if both of them die? I can't take that." Sherlock's voice broke and he inhaled sharply.

"Hey, don't say that." John used his free hand to turn Sherlock's head so they were face to face. With horror he realised Sherlock was crying silent tears. He had only seen Sherlock cry once before, if you didn't count his mood swings, and the sight made his stomach clench. Sherlock, the ice cold so called sociopath, cared this much for their babies.

"Come here." He said and pulled Sherlock into a sitting position before climbing behind Sherlock and moved so he was half lying down half sitting up. Sherlock laid down between John's legs and rested his head on his chest and John's hands came to rest on Sherlock's stomach.

"Everything will be alright. The doctors and nurses has done this hundreds of times and they know exactly how the twins are all the time." He softly clapped the heart monitors that had been fastened around Sherlock's belly. "We're in a hospital. There is nothing they don't have here and after every check up so far the doctors have told us the twins are in perfect condition. And if there are any complications the doctors can handle that. They'll either use a c-section, which can get a baby out in, oh about three minutes or so I think, or that vacuum device we decided on."

He bent down and kissed the crown of Sherlock's head, rubbing small circles on Sherlock's stomach as Sherlock snuggled closer to him.

"I know you're feeling out of control and I know you hate that but I promise you that nothing will happen to our children."

Sherlock nodded slowly and wiped his eyes, careful of the I.V. in his hand.

"Thank you." He crooked out.

* * *

They continued to sit like that for some time, talking about nothing, John helping Sherlock through the contractions and discussing as many time before how their life would change now that they had kids. Dr Markson checked in on them regularly and it wasn't until Sherlock was almost dilated 8cm that John had to move away.

Half an hour after that, at around 11:30 pm, Sherlock had begun transitioning and the contractions were very painful. John tried to be helpful but no matter what he did Sherlock only seemed to snap at him when he wasn't groaning in pain.

Thirty five minutes after that Dr Markson entered with his usual smile.

"How are things going?" He asked as he donned a pair of plastic gloves.

"How do you think things are going?" Sherlock spat.

"Fine, just fine." John answered and the doctor gave him a small nod.

Another contraction hit Sherlock who let out a guttural growl, squeezing the life out of John's hand and making him open his mouth in a silent scream.

"Just breathe Sherlock." Dr Markson waved at the nurse that had accompanied him to assist Sherlock through his pain. A minute and a half after the contraction was finally over and Sherlock relaxed.

"You really grip hard." John rubbed his sore hand, flexing his fingers.

"Shut your face or you won't get laid for a year." Sherlock answered, voice surprisingly venomus for his tired appearance.

John could see the nurse smile as she checked readings and diagrams.

"Well, it looks like you're fully dilated and can begin labour." Dr Markson informed them in a happy voice. "We have a room ready and you'll be transported as soon as possible."

Within a minute the room was full of nurses helping Sherlock stand up and walking him to the delivery room where everything was prepared. John was given a blue gown, hair net and shoe protection before he could enter.

Sherlock was already laying on his back, his feet propped up in two stirrups and breathing slowly through his nose to ease the pain. John quickly moved to his side, feeling very overwhelmed. They were going to have twins. This was for real. They were starting a family. How had he not had this realisation before.

"Do you need to sit down sir?" One of the nurses asked him and he shook his head as answer. No, he should stay here. Support Sherlock.

"Don't you dare pass out on me." Sherlock threatened and for a half naked man with his feet in stirrups and wearing flowery gown he sounded rather threatening.

"Okey Sherlock you will feel the urge to push but do not do this. I repeat don't push. It will only slow things down." Dr Markson informed him with a stern voice. "I will tell you when to push but do not push before that. Are we clear?"

Sherlock nodded and John could hear one of the nurses tell him that the twins were still in a good position.

"Great. Sherlock you're doing great."

"Yeah, great." John repeated and clapped Sherlock lamely on one shoulder.

Soon Sherlock was given the command to push and John watched in haze as his partner, red faced and sweaty, worked to bring the babies into the world. He was vaguely aware that he himself was telling Sherlock to push and how he was doing so very good.

"That's it Sherlock, one more push and the head is out." John heard someone say but he couldn't really focus on who, only glad that the baby had a head.

"Come on now Sherlock. One more push. You're doing great. That's it...aaand here we go."

A small cry came from John's right and he looked away from Sherlock to see Dr. Markson holding a little, almost blue, baby in his arms. Someone quickly rushed forwards to clean its mouth and nose as Dr. Markson checked for injuries and such.

"It's a girl." He proudly proclaimed and John could feel a small tug on his gown.

"I told you they were girls." Sherlock said with a tired smile, his hair laying in long black tendrils on his forehead, sticky with sweat.

"You want to cut the umbilical cord?" Someone asked John and a kind of scissors were given to him. A hand pushed him forwards and the nurse attending the baby made room for John, who still felt like he was a few seconds out of sync with reality. He moved the scissors to cut where the nurse was pointing. He only saw a bit of black hair on the baby's head before she was rushed away to the warming bed where a nurse was waiting.

"John." Sherlock called and reached out with his hand. John unfroze, quickly returned the scissors and walked back to Sherlock's side.

Sherlock let out a low hum and closed his eyes when John took his hand, seemingly content with the pause he got.

"You alright?" John asked, pushing some of Sherlock's hair away from his eyes.

"Not. Yet." Came the strained reply and John looked at Sherlock with confusion. However, a moment later he realized another contraction was coming and soon Sherlock let out a cry of pain.

"Okay. Push Sherlock. That's it, push." Dr Markson called, once again positioned between Sherlock's legs. "Push Sherlock. You need to push."

"I. AM. PUSHING!"

"Come on babe. Just a bit more." John said from Sherlock side, his arm locked in a death grip. Sherlock continued to scream throughout the contraction, rising in pitch the longer it lasted, before collapsing against the bed, panting hard.

"Sherlock, you're doing great but I need you to push harder." Dr Markson informed them and Sherlock nodded weakly.

"It's just a bit more, then it'll be over." John reassured Sherlock.

"Ready, and. Push!"

Sherlock screamed again and pushed with all the strength he had left, which wasn't very much by now.

John looked worriedly at his partner. Sherlock seemed to scream more this time around, or maybe that was just John actually being aware what was happening now, and he looked almost completely worn out. The first baby had been a long battle and if the second where the same then John wasn't completely sure Sherlock could do it.

Sherlock stopped his pushing with a breathless "I can't" chest heaving with the effort. "I can't do it John."

"How are you feeling Sherlock?" Dr Markson asked and Sherlock shook his head in reply. "Vacuum." He ordered and a nurse handed the doctor what looked like some kind of suction cup attached to a string and handle.

The thing was quickly placed on the second baby's head, which was already showing, and when a new contraction started Dr. Markson helped by slightly pulling the handle, helping Sherlock with the birth.

On the fifth contraction Dr. Markson finally exclaimed that the head was out and with a few more pushes the baby was fully birthed. John once again cut the umbilical cord and then returned to Sherlock, who looked like he'd ran a marathon, which he probably had.

"You did it. I'm so proud over you." John gave him a kiss which Sherlock almost returned, to tired to do anything.

A nurse walked up to them and placed the first baby on Sherlock's chest and she was beautiful. Now when she was dried off John saw that the hair he first had thought to be ink black as Sherlock's was actually a deep auburn colour. Her eyes were deep blue and now that a little time had passed after birth she had rosy pink skin. She was screaming and squirming in Sherlock's arms but he didn't seemed to mind. Instead he stared at her with deep admiration, a big smile on his face.

"She's got your eyes." He whispered, looking up at John for a second before turning his gaze once again on the newborn in his arms.

"She's got your lips." John said and stroked a finger along her small cheek. "Your cupid's bow."

The second baby soon joined her twin in Sherlock's arms and the two were close to identical. The only difference being a birthmark on the first twins belly and the fact that the suction cup had made the second twin's head somewhat oddly shaped, but that would disappear within a few days.

"So are they an 'Alexandra and Erica' or a 'Susan and Amy'?" John asked, stroking the cheek of the second baby. Sherlock, who was being instructed on how to breastfeed, didn't hear him though.

Breastfeeding men were very rare, since men only developed very small breasts which didn't produce a lot of milk. Evolution had succeeded in a lot of things when it came to male pregnancies, but when evolution came to breastfeeding it kind of skipped that part. There was therefore very hard to give the baby the nutrients required for a healthy diet from breast feeding and a lot of couples switched to artificial milk within the same week as the birth. They had decided that Sherlock would breastfeed as long as they stayed in the hospital and they would then switch to bottle feeding.

"What did you say." He asked after a while. His eyes not leaving the little packages of blankets in his arms.

"I asked you about the names?"

"Hmmm. She is definitely and Alexandra." Sherlock looked at the baby nearest John, who was flailing her little arms and legs everywhere inside the cocoon of blankets.

"Yeah. What about her then? She doesn't feel like an Erica to me." He gestured towards the first baby and picked up little Alexandra, holding her close to his chest. She was warm and she seemed to melt John's heart as she yawned widely. She was the cutest thing he had ever seen, and she was his. He had helped make her. Uncontainable happiness and pride filled John from the toes and up to the very tip of his head and the smile on his lips felt like it might split his face in two.

"How about Amelié." Sherlock asked, a french pronunciation on the name. "She feels like an Amelié."

"Hmm. No, not really." John mused, rocking slightly side to side. "Emilie?"

"Yeah. Little Emelie and Alexandra."

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At 01:47 the cell on Lestrade's bedside table lit up with a text. The light was bright enough to wake the detective inspector, who cursed anyone who texed at this ungodly hour.

As he opened the text his scowl changed into a wide smile.

The text contained a picture of a tired looking John and a _very_ tired looking Sherlock laying in a bed, one baby in each arms, bright smiles on both of their faces. The message belonging to the picture said:

_Emilie Olivia Watson Holmes (John's) born on the 27'th of August 2012 00:28 Am. She weighs 5 pounds and 7 ounces and is 17'' tall._

_Alexandra Jessica Watson Holmes (Sherlock's) born on the 27'th of August 2012 00:34 Am. She weighs 5 pounds and 13 ounces and is 18'' tall._

_Best wishes_

_The Watson Holmes family_

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**Babies :D**

**I hope you liked it :) I sure did like writing it, even though I have spent the last twelve hours doing nothing but working on this chapter.**

**I just need to explain one thing about the countdown. I'm sure you've noticed that each chapter name has begun with a certain amount of months and weeks and that this has been a countdown to the birth of our beloved twins. The countdown have always been set with 0 as the 27 of August so last chapter took place two weeks prior to that and not two weeks prior to 4 of September, which was the calculated birth date. ( I just felt that I needed to explain that)**

**As I've said earlier I will be taking requests from now on so just throw them at me and I will write them down and whenever I feel like I don't know what to write I'll just look at your amazing suggestion and the imagination will flow.**

**If you see something brutally inaccurate about the technicalities in this chapter please do tell and I will try to change it.**

**Comments are amazing**

**Love** **/Phin**

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	17. 1 Month: Baby barfs

**Hello, it's me, the author. There was a time when I used to update this story, hope you remember me. Okey jokes aside. Here is another chapter, at last. The reason it has taken so long is because I was really unmotivated to write on this story after the last chapter and when I found motivation again I just didn't know what to write about. But now I've managed to put some words down in an order I am somewhat pleased with and even though it's actually nothing happening in the chapter I am going to give it to you guys, because I love you.**

**Amazing response on the last chapter, thank you all so much.**

**Long author's note is long so I'm going to stop now.**

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The first few weeks at home had been what can only be described as messy. No matter how many baby books they had read or how many courses they had read nothing could really prepare them for the real thing, or things. Sherlock had been deathly afraid of doing something wrong and accidently hurt the babies but after some feedback from Mrs Hudson he calmed down.

The babies were lovely almost all of the time. No, that was wrong. The babies were lovely all of the time, it was only that when you have to babies and one of them starts crying in the middle of the night. No matter how fast you are there is no way you can avoid the other baby waking up and crying as well. Sherlock being Sherlock he had almost no problem at all with going days on minimal sleep, John however, had. But that didn't really matter because the babies were so lovely and so cute and they just lifted John's whole life to a new level.

They quickly noticed that Emelie was the quiet one and Alexandra the, not so quiet one. And being as young as they were, the twins didn't do much more than eating, sleeping, crying and pooping, and looking absolutely adorable.

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Sherlock stood in the middle of the living room, bouncing slightly up and down and gently rubbing Emelie's back. Emelie wasn't much of a burper but today she became fussy after finishing only half of her bottle so Sherlock decided to burp her, hoping that it would help.

Alexandra, who needed to be burped after every meal and sometimes even two times per meal, was napping on the sheepskin blanket on the floor. And speaking of napping, John should wake up any time now. John had taken up the habit of napping whenever one of the babies were napping to compensate for the lack of sleep he got at night.

Two minutes later a series of thumbs came from the hallway and a yawning John walked through the door, rubbing his eyes.

"Pleasant sleep?" Sherlock asked, his eyes not leaving the baby in his arms.

"Yeah. How's Alex? Still sleeping?" John walked over to the little bundle on the blanket and carefully studied her sleeping form.

"Alexandra is still sleeping."

John had started calling Alexandra Alex within two weeks and Sherlock had been correcting him ever since, arguing that if you gave a person a name you were supposed to call them that name and not something else. John had decided that Sherlock's determination probably depended the fact that 'Lockie' had been his childhood nickname.

After making sure that Alexandra was comfortable John walked over to Sherlock and gave a peck on the lips. A second later Emelie finally let out a small burp and Sherlock lifted her off his shoulder to give her a broad smile.

"Hello sweetheart." He cooed and Emelie responded by barfing all over his chin and t-shirt. Sherlock jerked away and quickly closed his mouth and eyes.

The two parents didn't move for a second, only watching the white goo stuck to Sherlock. Then John began to laugh. Sherlock shot him an angry glare and then proceeded to begin cleaning up, a subject he had became quite the expert on, unwillingly.

During the month the twins had been a part of their life John had been barfed on once. Only once, no more. He and Sherlock were sharing the cores and they had spent about the same amount of time with each baby. Despite this John had only been vomited on once. Sherlock, on the other hand, had been the target of almost all the other times the babies vomited, a few of these times even in the face. Two of his shirts were destroyed and he was now almost constantly walking around in cheap multipack t-shirts from target.

"John, please hold Emelie while I take a shower."

John walked over to his partner, still chuckling, and took his baby girl from him. The two of them sat down on the couch, well John sat down and Emelie just had to settle with being held closely against his chest, and watched as Sherlock walked to the bathroom, cursing under his breath.

"How are you Em?" John asked his daughter. "Are you okay, now that you've barfed on your papa? Hmm?." He stroked her little cheek and cast a look at Alexandra, who was still sleeping. Emelie just flexed her little hands and jerked her legs in response.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." If pre-baby John could see himself right now he would sigh and facepalm, but post-baby John didn't care if he sounded silly. All that mattered right now was the twins.

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**Here I am again. Hope you liked it. I don't even know if it can be classified as fluff and as you probably noticed I didn't really know what to make this chapter about.**

**Anyway if there is something you want to see in the story just tell me in a comment. And if there is something you want me to change tell me in a comment.**

**Comments are lovely**

**Love  
/Phin**

**Author's Note:**

> **So that's the start of a story that has been rolling around in my head for the past week.**
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> **More info about the story will come with next chapter which will probably be up before the end of the weekend.**
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> **Comments are highly appreciated :)**
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> **/Phin**


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